CMBlack: Skin of a Dragon
by Vindicated Soldiers
Summary: Cassy Black was hoping for just one year where no one was in danger, but Harry ruined that the moment his name came out of the goblet. Things are fast unfolding for her friends and it is apparent that this will be the year to change it all, whether they want it to or not. Nosey Slytherins, unwanted reporters and her runaway father make things even more difficult. Sequel to CMB:BoaD
1. Better than a letter

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter one: Better than a letter**

A gentle breeze slipped in through the open windows, ruffling the unopened letters on the shelf; greens and yellows danced along the floor as the light hit the coloured glass and the swaying leaves of the tree in front obscured its path. The summer had been an unusually warm one, even on the days where it had rained for hours the sun had always been high in the sky until late in the night. However, as summer was drawing to an end, the days began to grow shorter and clouds were peaking in the periphrasis of the sky more and more frequently. It did not stop the girls from wearing their bright dresses, or the boys from being scolded by the parish priest and told to wear more clothes as they strode topless through the market square.

It had been a lazy summer, but one far more enjoyable than the last. Cassy was not grounded, nor had she been attacked by a one-eyed man with a wooden leg in search of her estranged father. Instead, she had visited her family and seen Neville quite frequently as her uncle Alphard and Neville's grandmother met up for lunch every fortnight. She had exchanged letters with Ginny and Luna, the latter of whom sent her a box of the fruit she grew in her garden. Harry was only ever a mirror-call away.

Her favourite development, she thought as she lingered in the hallway, came in the form of their new neighbour, Eden Fairle. She was a small woman, smaller than even Cassy, with pure white hair and hazel eyes that lit up warmly at the sight of nearly anybody. A kind old woman, perhaps too interested in gossip and slightly nosey, but high-spirited and a very capable cook. Cassy thought she was lovely. Alphard thought she was a nuisance.

Maybe it was because Ms. Fairle had taken a keen interest immediately at the sight of him, or because Alphard had never expressed any interest in dating at all that Cassy took such novelty in their relationship. Her hands were folded behind her back as she leant on the papered wall, smiling as Alphard tried his hardest to appear engaged in the conversation.

Across the hall, a portrait was giving her a pointed look. She waved her hand to shoo her down the hall, but Cassy raised a finger to her lips and further inclined her head towards the doorway.

'I am very glad that I moved in here, the folk are very kind, much more than I expected having lived in the north for so long. I mean, everyone knows everyone back there, my son says they ask after me a lot, but Merlin knows if they really cared to chat I am just a Floo-Call away,' said Ms. Fairle brightly. She spoke oddly, her words elongated in peculiar places as she tried to tame her thick accent.

'There are more muggle communities here than in the north, you should be careful who you say that around or you may have another incident like the other day,' said Alphard curtly.

Maybe, Cassy thought, the reason Alphard disliked her so was because she could be rather stupid. As smart as she seemed to be, she had no great desire to ever watch was she was saying and around who, resulting in a rather large spectacle where she had been called a 'Crazy old bat' by some of the locals and escorted out of the restaurant. It was the moment that she and Alphard met and he had never quite forgiven her for associating with him immediately afterwards.

'Oh, nevermind that. They never use their brains, they won't think anything of it,' she said. Cassy imagined she was waving her hand. 'Anyway, speaking of my son, his son has just got an apprenticeship as an architect in London. He's working under the one who remodelled entrance of the Ministry a few years back? I can't remember his name. Anyway, he's about your niece's age, I thought they might like to meet and chat, or something. I considered inviting him down one weekend before the end of the summer.'

Cassy's eyes widened greatly and she stared at the bannister. The portrait had raised her hand to smother a giggle that could still be heard over the ticking of the grandfather clock farther down the hall.

Alphard took a moment to reply. 'My niece is entering her fourth-year, she is fifteen in November. There is quite a difference between the two.'

'The gap between myself and my former husband was thirteen years, and the one before that was seven,' she said dismissively and Cassy's nose crinkled slightly. She did not wait for Alphard to reply, instead she hopped backwards loudly as if having jumped down the stairs, then walked back down the hall to the doorway, swinging around it with a pleasant smile on her face.

'Good morning, Ms. Fairle,' she said brightly. When Ms. Fairle smiled and greeted her in kind, Cassy looked between her and Alphard. 'I was going to the kitchen and thought I might offer to get you something, if you wish.'

'Oh, yes, a cup of tea, please,' said Ms. Fairle.

As she reached over the collect her cup, Cassy shot Alphard a pointed look, jerking her head to the kitchen quickly. Then, she smiled and took the piece from her, taking Alphard's too and hurrying away. She did not wait to hear was excuse Alphard gave to leave, but he appeared moments later to push the door to.

'Is she trying to marry me off?' asked Cassy in a loud whisper as she filled the kettle. She dropped it down onto the hob with a loud 'clunk'.

'Not exactly, although she does keep making suggestions,' said Alphard calmly. He watched her sneer for a minute as she rinsed out the cups. 'All you have to say is no. I have all ready told her I am unwilling to make decisions on your behalf. She seemed rather surprised at that though. We do have a tradition of arranged marriages.'

'Arranged? You told me they were agreed upon, not arranged,' said Cassy, frowning.

'They were, but it was stressed that they _should_ agree to them for the good of the family. I think Narcissa was one of the only ones to marry out of choice. She refused all suggestions until Lucius asked her himself. Cassy, do not pull that face.'

Cassy's lips had thinned at the thought of her cousin choosing to marry Lucius. 'As long as he loves her,' she said, repeating the same sentence she had used for several years now.

'Anyway, regardless of Eden's grandsons, nephews, or sons, have you actually packed yet?'

'No, but she tried to pair me with her _son_? How old even is he?' she said in alarm.

Alphard's eyes danced with amusement. 'I would wager older than your father.'

Cassy made a sound from deep at the back of her throat as she removed the purring kettle from the heat.

A strained smile was managed as Cassy placed down the teacups in the living room. Ms. Fairle did not seem to notice and she smiled back just as she did before. Cassy hurried out of the room again, rolling her eyes at Alphard, who was grinning as he slipped by. Hushing the painting once more, Cassy ascended the stairs quickly, navigating the long corridors until she reached her room and shut the door firmly behind her.

'Imagine people trying to marry me off, Crin,' said Cassy to her owl. He looked up at her from his perch with as much enthusiasm for her voice as he ever had before tucking his head back under his wing. 'I would make a dreadful wife!'

The room was large with pale blue walls and tall, dark furniture. The curtains were drawn across the vast Georgian window, only a slither of light peeking through that she promptly corrected with a sharp tug. Books lined the high shelves and pictures and photographs housed in wooden frames ran down from the ceiling to bare floorboards on the wall that the bed was pressed against.

Cassy plucked the open book from the covers. The page was marked and then closed to be stuffed into a small trunk that had emerged from under her bed. She folded and packed only a few things, including her two-way mirror and a sack of papers and coins that she had spent the better part of the previous evening marvelling at and attempting to remember their worth. The muggle currency was peculiar, yet the Goblins at Gringotts had barely batted an eye when she had asked for an exchange.

By the time she had finished packing, Ms. Fairle had left and Alphard had made his way upstairs. He lingered in her doorway, gazing around at the spotless mat and them up to the incredibly cluttered desk where he could just make out the flower of a potted plant sprouting above it all. He sighed, flicking the parchment away and stacking up the books.

'You best be off now,' he said, clapping a hand on Cassy's shoulder.

She strode down the long garden path, turning to wave good-bye to Alphard before he locked the door. Once it clicked shut, she turned to the flowering, yellow bush on her right.

'Still not harbouring a murderer,' she said plainly as she passed.

The bush rustled.

Shaking her head at the stupidity of the Ministry Officials that stalked outside her home from time to time, she pulled out her wand. Holding it up, she waited by the curbside. Then, far away in the distance a low rumbling sounded, drawing closer and closer, until a blur shot up the street and halted very suddenly in front of her.

The chandeliers rattled violently inside and the beds pulled harshly on their tethers. Inside the triple-decker bus was a young man. His face was plastered in spots and he looked out at Cassy lazily, a small card held in his hand. When the purple door opened, he swung on the rail and read, 'Welcome to the Knight Bus, my name is Stan Stunpike and I am you conductor for this afternoon.'

'Crown Close, Bath, please,' said Cassy, stepping on board.

She was quick to perch on the edge of a bed. As soon as the door closed the bus was off, moving rapidly down the streets, turning and winding wildly around the muggle traffic and speeding through every light. The bus itself was empty. Of the three floors, only two people were visible, one asleep – who looked as though he never left the bus – and an old women who had her knitting out.

It took only a few minutes to get from one side of England to the other. The bustling streets faded rapidly as the bus navigated the winding country lanes of the south-west. Rain pattered on the window for seconds, then bright, clear skies shone again as the limestone buildings of Bath city centre emerged. Then, the gears began grinding and Cassy gripped the railing of the bed tightly, the shrunken head near the driver began cackling as the bus jerked violently.

'Crown Close, Bath,' said Stunpike, opening the doors.

Cassy thanked him and the driver. She stepped out onto the path and there was the faintest gust of wind to indicate that the bus had all ready departed. In front of her was a row of houses, each old in character and slightly different from the next. It was not at all like Privet Drive had been. The cars on the driveways were different, some considerably nicer than others, but their gardens were just as trimmed and lovely, if not a bit more so for their differences.

Cassy's head turn. A red door some houses down opened and a bushy-haired girl poked out from within.

'Cassy!' exclaimed Hermione, trotting down the drive as Cassy hurried to meet her. 'How have you been?'

'Fine, thank-you, and yourself?' she replied.

'Never better,' beamed Hermione. 'I'm so glad you could make it. I head a vehicle pull up and looked outside. It's amazing no muggles have ever seen it – a bus that big.'

Cassy grinned and Hermione took her bag from her. Following inside, Cassy took a moment to marvel at Hermione's house. She had never considered that teeth-healers – dentists, Hermione had called them – would earn as much as she imagined half of Hermione's furniture must have costed. It was a large house, open plan with pretty furniture and high ceilings.

'Your house is lovely,' said Cassy.

Hermione blinked at her in surprise. 'I didn't think it would be for your tastes, to be honest. My parents don't have much spare time, running a dentistry together, but they like to go to markets together, it's their hobby. That's where we got most of this.'

Cassy perked up and was about to ask more about the muggle markets when she frowned deeply and halted on the stairs. She stared intensely at the framed picture on the wall. She said, 'That is very strange.'

'What is?' asked Hermione. She flushed when Cassy pointed the the photograph. 'Don't make fun of me, I was only about eight at the time. Everyone had their hair like that at school. I hated it, but my mum thought it would be best if I tried it out.'

It was Cassy's turn to stare in surprise. She shook her head and laughed slightly. 'No, not your hair, the photograph. It is stationary. I have never seen anything quite like it.'

Hermione made a small 'oh' sound and cleared her throat. 'Well, I find your photos very strange. It's like watching a clip of a film.'

Cassy raised her eyebrows, not understanding, but she did not ask. Instead she followed Hermione into her bedroom and before she could begin to inspect, Hermione turned to her with a frown.

'You know we're going to be doing a lot of walking today, don't you? Why would you come in a skirt and shoes like that?'

' "_Shoes like that"_? There is nothing wrong with these shoes. Besides, what else was I going to wear? I have dresses or skirts,' said Cassy, frowning with equal intensity. She looked down at her flat laced boots.

'You're the epitome of an impractical rich girl right now,' said Hermione with a huff.

Cassy narrowed her eyes.

* * *

There was a twinge of pain as pressure pushed down on the back of Cassy's foot. She hissed, shifting the bowl on her lap awkwardly as she bent her foot up onto her other knee to get a better look at the swelling.

'Leave it or you'll make it worse,' said Hermione, waving at her with her spoon. 'This is why you should have worn more practical shoes.'

'This is why you should not have made me walk ten miles in a day. I can barely feel my feet and when I do it is utter pain!' said Cassy.

'I wanted to show you all of my favourite places though,' said Hermione.

'I am here for four days, you could _easily_ have spread that out across it,' stressed Cassy, prodding the blister carefully.

It became apparent very quickly that Cassy and Hermione had different interpretations of what counted as a lot of walking. For Hermione, who had grown up in the rolling hills of the county of Somerset, walking seemed to be no issue. Cassy had expected Hermione to have been cooped up in her bedroom for a majority of her childhood, pooling over books that were five years too advanced and loving every second of being blown away by new findings, not sparing a second glance to the sun outside the window. That was not the case. Instead, she had often gone walking. When things became too much and she simply needed to escape she would take a good book and go wandering off into the hills and sit there for a day while her parents worked, or walk to their office against the wishes of her minder at the time. Hermione had taken full advantage of her surroundings and Cassy could not have been more shocked for it.

Cassy herself had always been an adventurous child. She had loved running and climbing – much to the horror of Narcissa – yet she had never strayed too far. It was simply not to be done and as hard as she pushed she could never stray too far out of the magical community of Canterbury without one of the residents ushering her back inside of her uncle's house.

Hermione shook her head fiercely at Cassy's rebuke. 'The other days are full! I have everything planned out and this is the way it works best. Trust me.'

Cassy squinted. 'You have all of the days planned out. Planned entirely?'

Hermione nodded, scooping another spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. 'We're going to the museums tomorrow, and another on Sunday, but tomorrow evening we're going to the theatre. I know you've been before, but this would be a good chance for you to see a muggle play. They are different, aren't they? Muggle plays have a lot of variety...'

Cassy slowly turned her head, tuning out Hermione's ramblings as she began to squash her own ice-cream carefully with the spoon. Her eyes drifted back to the silver television on the chest of draws. The screen was small and beneath it was a slot that Hermione explained played videos, although it had taken her a few minutes to explain exactly what a video was to Cassy, who became more lost the more Hermione tried. A video was not playing then though and Hermione kept flicking from channel to channel, despite that Cassy was quite enthralled by whatever was on.

Hermione's room was smaller than Cassy's, but a fair size and considerably less cluttered. She had white furniture and wooden floors, purple walls and a distinct lack of a mirror. There were two bookcases creaking under the weight of all the texts Hermione had piled on the shelves; lined down one side were photographs of herself, Cassy, Harry, Neville and Ginny, along with a single one of her parents that did not move at all.

'Did you want to be a dentist growing up?' asked Cassy suddenly.

Hermione looked thoughtful. 'No, not at all. I don't think I ever did. Before Hogwarts, I wanted to be a lawyer, I'm not so sure now. What about yourself?'

Cassy averted her eyes. Her mouth opened slowly and shut again. Hermione leant sideways towards her, pushing away the bowl on her blanket in interest.

'What, what is it?' she asked. The longer Cassy did not reply the wider her smile became. She was grinning so widely Cassy was worried her face might split by the time Cassy muttered out her answer. Hermione squinted. 'What was that?'

Cassy mumbled again and a sharp jab in her ribs made her speak up. 'I always wanted to be an inventor. I wanted to travel and make things, discover things and sell my creations – stop looking at me like that, it's creepy.'

Hermione's eyes had lit up brightly. She snorted loudly and her head fell back in laughter. 'That's not at all what I expected. That's rather sweet. I thought you would have had a really serious goal, but you were a normal child.'

Cassy huffed. 'I was, but you wanted to be a lawyer. No child wants to be so dull!'

Hermione laughed unabashedly and Cassy rolled her eyes. Beneath the giggling, there was a low hum. Delving her hand beneath the covers that were spread across the floor, Cassy pulled out a small, rectangular mirror. The ice-cream bowl was secured between her knees and her stomach before she flicked it up to eye-level.

'Evening,' she said brightly.

In the mirror, Cassy saw not her own reflection, but that of Harry. His face was only partially lit by a bedside lamp, but it was enough to reveal the extremely messy black-hair and the paleness of his face.

Cassy frowned. 'Are you all right?'

'Yeah,' he said in a breath. 'I just can't sleep.'

'Is that all? You look awful.'

Harry rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. It had little effect, his wonky glasses obstructed the seriousness. 'Thanks, Cass. I'll remember to tell you that next time.'

'I am fairly certain you have said that to me before, but really, are you sure you are okay?'

'I had a dream actually,' he said after several moments. 'I woke up because my scar started hurting, it was burning. Voldemort was in my dream too, he killed this man and – and it just _hurt_.' He reached up to rub his scar as he spoke and Cassy could then see the pink, irritated skin surrounding the lightning bolt. Harry had lay awake for a while.

Before Cassy could say a word, Hermione bumbled into view, pressing firmly against Cassy's shoulder and almost knocking her sideways.

'Oh, Harry, that's terrible!' she exclaimed.

'Hermione?' asked Harry in surprise.

'I wonder if curse-scars can hurt years afterwards, perhaps there is something wrong with it. I'll have to do some reading. I know I have something here somewhere that mentions them,' she said quickly. She disappeared from Harry's sight and Cassy watched her with vague interest as she began pulling out all sorts of books from her shelves.

'Hermione, really, it's fine. Don't bother, I'm not sure people are very familiar with this kind of scar,' said Harry.

'She has gone,' said Cassy, the corners of her mouth turning up. 'She will not hear a word you say until she's done now.'

Harry sighed. 'I was thinking of asking Sirius about it. Maybe writing him a letter.'

'I imagine he might have more of an idea; that sounds like a good plan. I can always think of a way to bring it up with Alphard, if you like. He tends to know curses well, seeing as he works with counter-curse potions frequently,' said Cassy, but Harry shook his head.

'It's probably nothing, there is no reason to worry about it,' he insisted. 'This is why I didn't write to Hermione, I didn't want the fuss, as good as her intentions are.'

Cassy glanced up to watch the other flicking through index and index. Hermione had about a dozen books on the floor and appeared to be sorting them out into two piles; one pile was substantially smaller than the other. Smiling, Cassy looked down at Harry.

'How is your weekend going anyway? I forgot about it entirely. I wouldn't have rang if I knew-'

'Don't be stupid,' said Cassy sharply. 'You can call whenever you like. It would not matter where I was. Besides, after how much walking I have done today anything to take my mind off it is a welcomed reprieve.'

'She did say you'd be walking far,' he said, grinning.

Cassy raised her eyebrows high into her hairline. 'Oh, she did, did she? Well, it is nice of her to tell you that and not me. I am in agony. You should have told me.'

'Oh, so it is my fault now?' said Harry.

'Yes. Take responsibility.'

Harry laughed. His hand rose to smother his mouth and he looked towards where Cassy thought the door of his bedroom was. Grinning, he shrugged, as if there was nothing he possible could have done.

Cassy leant towards her trunk and stuck her hand through the small gap, pulling it back out with a brown, leather boot in hand. She held it up for Harry to see and said, 'I had to buy some walking boots because the ones I came with were clearly not made for long-distance. Muggle shops are very informal, I thought it was very odd until I found one where they greet you at the door.'

'The expensive shops, Harry. She would only go in the really, really expensive ones,' called Hermione from her circle of textbooks.

Cassy shook her head and Harry laughed again. 'She keeps saying that, but they were good value really. They are made to last, you know.'

'Sure,' said Hermione distantly. She smiled behind the pages as Cassy pulled a face.

'While we were there she also insisted I buy trousers,' said Cassy. 'Some jeans were so tight that I could barely bend my knees.'

'You know you can buy non-skinny jeans, right,' said Harry.

'Yes, but I don't like them. Actually, on the topic of things I dislike, the bird my farther sent with my last letter was ridiculous. It knocked over everything, cried the entire time it was in the house and moulted everywhere!'

'The big red one?' asked Harry. 'It was at my window for a bit, but went when I untied my letter. The Dursley's were mortified. The pulled up in the car while it was just sitting there.'

Cassy scrunched up her nose. 'You can have it next time. It was huge.'

'I don't want it,' he replied indignantly.

'Well neither do I and it is your turn,' she said with finality. 'My letter did not say much beyond that they have settled down somewhere hot and that Remus is keeping him informed about the goings-on in Britain for the time being. There was a small complaint that it took him a long time to decipher my short-hand.'

'Reading your notes is like looking into the Sun, there's no sense in doing so what-so-ever.'

'Oh? Well, I will remember that when you ask for them next time.'

'I'll just ask for Hermione's,' he said with a shrug. 'I'll write tonight. I'm hoping it won't take as long for him to reply if he's settled somewhere.'

The intervals between Sirius' letters had never been particularly short. However, they stretched and grew over the summer as he moved further south. They picked up briefly when Remus met with him at last, but between the two of them, Cassy and Harry could not imagine what they were doing with their time. It was unlikely that Remus had found employment and depending on where they were, it was likely that Sirius still faced being recognised and so could not transform from Blackjack at all. None the less, the pair waited eagerly to hear from them; even Cassy's interest had risen since she had spent more time talking to her father, however brief.

'I do wonder though,' said Harry and Cassy looked at him curiously, 'about the meaning of the dream. It felt so real and I just...'

Hermione stood from her little circle with a thick book tucked under her arm. She threw herself down next to Cassy and plucked the mirror from her hands. Opening the book, Hermione held the mirror in one hand and smiled as she read out a little passage to him.

Cassy glanced back at the television, half-listening to their conversation. She knew what it probably said, she also knew it was likely for the wrong type of curse-scar. Harry's was different. He was the only one in the world, living and past, to have ever survived the Avada Kerdava curse. There was no book that would reassure him fully, but she heard Hermione's small laugh and could imagine Harry was smiling back at her, even though he did not really feel it.

The people on the television laughed and Cassy took another spoonful of her much melted ice-cream. 'Watching programs like this makes me think that Voldemort might be on to something sometimes.'

In one swift motion, Hermione had lunged for the remote and Cassy had dived for the mirror. She pulled it safely back just as the television turned black.

'That's enough of that for you today. I'll remember never to let you watch late-night chat shows again,' said Hermione.

Cassy grinned, then looked down at Harry. 'Try not to think about it too much. Write the letter and then wait for the reply. How would Voldemort have even returned? Just think about the Quidditch World Cup we are going to soon. All of the Weasley's will be there and it will be great. Think about that rather than your dream.'

'We're fairly lucky to have you to thank for that,' said Harry with a beaming smile.

There was an acknowledged advantage to having powerful family members and one of those advantages was knowing someone who knew where to get tickets prior to their release date. Lucius had made the mistake of telling Draco, who had told Cassy, who had told Neville, Harry, and Hermione, who had all brought tickets a week early. It meant that there was no mad scramble for seats and places, and it was made all the better by Ginny's excited announcement that the Weasley's had won the Daily Prophet draw and won free ones too. Cassy was just relieved not to spend the day with Lucius. Neville was pleased because it meant his friends would not have to meet his strange uncle who had hung him out the window as a child.

Cassy winked at him. The part she was most looking forward too was when the Weasley's went to pick Harry up for the game. Fred and George had sent her many letters depicting how they wanted it to go, only she had yet to tell Harry any of it.

* * *

**Yay, first chapter of C. : Skin of a Dragon! It's slightly longer than I normally aim for in an opening chapter, but I wanted to introduce a few subtle themes and the Quidditch cup. Some of the things may not be obvious, but they're not supposed to be, yet I hope you don't think the chapter was a massive waste of time. **

**I chose Crown Close as a dentist joke about crown fittings and because I needed to make up a street. Bath is supposed to be cultured and I thought it would be a good place to stick Hermione's home. I like the idea of her growing up as a big fish in a little pond too, so that is why I chose the edge with the countryside rather than a city centre. I am not entirely sure where she actually lived of if it had been revealed post-book.**

**The next chapter is almost like a filler too, but it has character development and I think is needed to further the friendships that all ready exist. **

**I hope you'll stick with me through this year as much as people have done with me previously. It means a lot to me to know people still enjoy this almost two years on.**

**Thanks!**


	2. The private life of 4 Privet Drive

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter II: The private life of Four Privet Drive**

Number four Privet Drive was situated in a quiet, well-to-do area of Surrey. The houses were large and uniform, each with its own driveway and small patch of perfectly kept grass out back. The roads were quiet with many cars stationed on the driveways, each similar in style and colour, with the odd exception, which tended to be a little nicer than the rest.

Ahead, there was a small group of children, who squealed and scattered as a thin, short woman popped up over her garden fence and grabbed one by the arm. She pulled the girl in close, raising her eyebrows high into her hairline. The woman pointed down at the brightly coloured streaks that stretched from her house to the one three doors down. The little girl nodded and quickly the chalk was pulled from her hands and thrown into the bin bag behind. The child struggled her way out of the woman's grasp and ran up the road with tears in her eyes, most likely seeking out her friends.

Cassy, Hermione and Neville walked past without saying a word. The woman had resumed her weeding and barely glanced up at them as they walked. Hermione peered around, interest shining beneath her woven sun hat. She followed Cassy, who looked very much like a muggle in her jeans and sunglasses, around the corner and down another street that looked very much the same as the one they had come from.

'How do you know where you're going?' she asked as they crossed the road.

'I just made a loop,' replied Cassy. 'This is Privet Drive. I just wanted to see if the rest of the neighbourhood was like Harry described it.'

It had been. It was utterly monotonous.

Without hesitation, Cassy waltzed up the driveway a house and knocked loudly on the door. It looked no different than it had two years ago, although the car might have changed – Cassy had not put much effort into remembering the contraption last time she had visited. The curtains were open, yet no one had answered. She knocked again and flicked up her glasses.

'Maybe they're not home,' suggested Neville.

'If they are out then Harry will be in,' said Cassy, knocking for a third time. At her last knock, the door swung open and an angular, pale face poked out from behind it. The woman had cropped blonde hair and watery blue eyes, she was tall and thin, quite unlike her husband had been.

'Yes?' said Mrs Dursley politely. She looked the three over and smiled slightly.

'Good morning, I am Cassy and these are Neville and Hermione. We are looking for Harry Potter.'

The blood drained from her face faster than Cassy had imagined possible at the mere mention of her nephew. She spluttered, then slammed the door on Cassy's foot. Cassy leant forward, wedging her shoulder in the gap as well. She smiled, although Mrs Dursley could not see it.

'I do not think you understand, Mrs Dursley,' she said jovially, 'my name is Cassiopeia _Black_, and I am here to see Harry potter. I will not leave until we see him.' Cassy clicked the 'ck' on the end of her name.

Mrs Dursley squeaked. Opening the door only a fraction, she peered back around at Cassy, glancing back to the others, and said, 'I-I'll go and get him. Wait right here. It'll only take a minute.' The door opened a fraction to allow Cassy to take her foot out before it slammed shut.

'Charming,' said Hermione. 'She absolutely doesn't want anything to do with us – Cassy, where are you going?'

'I will be back in a moment, in some form at least,' said Cassy as she strode straight across the Dursley's perfect lawn and around the side of their house. Hermione called after her - she thought maybe she heard Neville laugh - but she waved her off and considered the fence from a distance. Placing her hands equally apart, she hoisted herself up and swung her legs round in such a way that made it look very much like it was something she had had a lot of practice in. Landing silently, Cassy surveyed the garden quickly. It was empty, save clanking from the tiny shed at the very end.

The Dursley's kitchen was pleasant and clean; the hall was garish, with bright patterned paper of vines and flowers; there was a door that lead to the living room, which was cluttered with pictures of a blond, incredibly fat boy. Harry was not visible in a single one.

Cassy did not unlatch the front door. Instead, she waited in front of it, taking a moment to gaze around at the shoes and coats aligned along the wall as she listened to the rapid footsteps drawing ever closer. A pleasant smile stretched across her lips. It widened, showing all of her pearly white teeth as Mrs and Mrs Dursley bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs Dursley shrieked, gripping the back of Mr Dursley's shirt, who had halted suddenly. His beady eyes widened and somewhere behind his bushy moustache, Cassy thought he might be sneering.

'How the devil did you get in?' he growled.

Cassy spread her arms far apart and laughed, shaking her head as if the answer was very obvious. 'Magic, of course!'

A sound like a heaving cat erupted from the back of Mrs Dursley's throat.

'Out!' demanded Mrs Dursley. 'Get out of my house now. People like you aren't welcome here.'

Cassy's smile slipped and she tilted her head lazily to one side. There was a part of her that considered what she was doing cruel, but it was overturned by the great dislike that had built through the summer. She wondered vaguely in Harry would mind.

She sighed heavily. 'I am here to see Harry. If you try and stop me then I will have nothing to tell my father and he would want to come here on his own then-'

'Boy!' roared Mr Dursley before Cassy had a chance to finish. He shouted again, suddenly calling Harry's name, his voice cracking as he did.

'Yeah?' called a clearly bemused voice. A door shut on the landing and a familiar messy-haired teen popped into view around the banister. Harry looked down the stairs, frowning when his uncle was not at the bottom, purple-faced. Then, his face lit up. 'Cassy! What are you doing here?'

'I have come to check on you, of course. It's been two months.'

Harry leapt down the stairs, passing his aunt without a second thought, and wrapped Cassy in a fierce hug. Cassy pulled away and explained that Neville and Hermione were still waiting outside. Despite raising an eyebrow, Harry reached past her and unlocked the door. Hermione came bursting through, pulling him in tightly for a hug of her own. Laughing, Harry tried to detach himself. Neville grinned back at him.

'That's it. You've seen him. Now, get out,' said Mrs Dursley with considerably less authority than before.

'We came all this way to see him. We have no plans on leaving just yet,' said Cassy.

'Exactly and unless you let us stay then your entire neighbourhood will see us wandering with your nephew. If you're worried about what people will think seeing us enter your house, imagine what they will think when they've heard us _talk_,' said Hermione.

The colour drained from the Dursleys' faces.

'So,' Harry said slowly, 'we're going to go to my room, all right?'

Mr Dursley turned a deep red, but he made no movement to stop them as Harry ushered his friends upstairs. His wife held firmly on his arm. Her face was pale, but more sour than afraid.

Harry shut his bedroom door, before rapidly plucking his clothes from the floor and stuffing them into the bottom of his wardrobe. His walls were a sickly peach – Harry was quick to claim it was his aunt's choosing – with brown carpet, although it was mostly covered by large furniture or posters that his relatives would loath. Words and people moved and span, wandering off into other posters; the Chudley Cannons were chased out of their bright orange canvas by another team in dark green.

'What are you guys doing here?' asked Harry, throwing himself down on his bed.

'Don't want us?' said Neville.

No,' said Harry grinning. 'I was quite enjoying the peace without you.'

'Don't you start that, you make all the trouble!' said Hermione with a cheeky smile, taking a seat beside him.

'We came on the Knight Bus,' said Neville.

'The what?' questioned Harry.

'The Knight Bus,' repeated Hermione. 'As the name describes, it looks a lot like a muggle bus, only it is three levels high, with beds inside as well as seating. It can fit up to eighty people in it at once. Of course, it doesn't need to, seeing as it can travel hundreds of miles in a few minutes-'

'Giant purple bus basically,' cut in Cassy. 'Hold up your wand at any curb and it will get to you as soon as possible.'

'So, like magical hitch-hiking?' he asked.

She raised an eyebrow, but Hermione nodded. She was still scowling at Cassy. Cassy ignored it.

'Okay, but why are you here – not that it's not great to see you guys, but I didn't expect visitors this morning,' said Harry. He shuffled backwards, stretching his long legs out over the width of the bed. Cassy had all ready made herself comfortable on his desk chair and Neville had proceeded to prop up the pillows so he could nestle back in the bed too.

'It was somewhat spontaneous,' admitted Cassy. 'I was going to come by myself, but then Hermione wanted to go and if we were going we thought we might as well collect Neville on the way.'

'Not that I'm really "on the way", but once they said where they were going I wanted to come anyway. I've never been in a muggle house before,' added Neville. He pulled at a stray thread from his shirt that Harry thought he may have got for his birthday. He nodded his head to Cassy. 'They said you'd had a weird dream?'

Harry turned a faint pink colour. 'I'm sure it's probably nothing. I just woke up with my scar hurting.'

'That's usually a sign You-Know-Who is lurking about,' said Neville grimly.

'Well, I'm sure he's not here,' said Harry firmly.

Neville's eyes flicked towards the window and Harry tried his hardest not to do the same. There was a brief thought, one that had cropped up the day before too, that it was unusual that Voldemort had not appeared at all during their third year. They had found his servant, Pettigrew, how had unfortunately escaped, but it was not quite the same. Cassy's mind entertained the notion that perhaps Pettigrew had indeed returned to his old circle, yet as quickly as the thought surfaced it vanished for a man who had spent twelve years hiding from them would never then return so easily.

'Maybe old curse scars can just hurt when you're stressed, y'know. Especially as yours is on your forehead,' suggested Neville hopefully.

Cassy picked up the video-camera that was shoved at the back of Harry's desk.

There was a moment of silence before Hermione burst into life, apparently unable to hold her tongue any longer. She twisted to Harry. 'We were really concerned about your dream. Have you written to Sirius yet? What did you say? I looked all through my books and I found very little. Of course, you are the only one who has ever lived through a curse like that, so I was looking for things similar to it, but you just don't find information like that in school books. So, me and Cassy are going to head down to the Wizarding library in London tomorrow to have a look there, if we can. If not, I'm sure there will be something at Hogwarts, even if we have to look in the restricted section.' She had spoken very quickly and stared at Harry intently, as if waiting for him to nod along in reassured delight.

Instead, raised his eyebrows and managed a lopsided smile. 'Er – yes, I wrote to him last night. Hedwig's taken it, but I don't where he is, so it could take ages... And, um, you don't need to look up anything, it's fine. You're supposed to be enjoying the summer.'

Harry did not meet Hermione's eye. He pulled the camera out of Cassy's hands and pressed down on a side panel, opening it up and handing it back to her. She pulled out the tape inside and held it up to the light in fascination. There was a slow burn at the back of his head where Hermione's eyes were boring through his skull.

'You cannot stop her now. She's made up her mind,' said Cassy, making Harry jump. 'Besides, that is her idea of fun.' She was pulling out the brown film before winding it back in with a pencil from his desk. 'What is this, by the way?'

'A video-camera. You can record short films, like the ones on the tele, and play it back afterwards. It doesn't have any battery. It's an old birthday present of Dudley's, I don't think he remembers he has it,' said Harry.

Cassy made a hum of contemplation.

The conversation took a brighter turn from then. Harry began to explain the events of his first summer back from Hogwarts to Hermione, who they kept forgetting she was largely unaware of. She asked at least half-a-dozen questions a minute and Cassy stifled a laugh as Harry sighed deeply and held a finger up. She was doing quite well until Harry said one thing he probably should have left out.

'You know how he had all my letters? He took them out and I had to chase him all around the room to get them. When I caught him, he turned and started to claw at the corner and smacked his head – oh. Oh, no,' said Harry slowly. 'It's okay, he -'

'Okay?' shrieked Hermione.

'Hermione,' said Harry warningly. He looked to his door quickly.

'That's appalling. Why would anyone think they should hurt themselves like that? That poor creature.'

'Hermione,' said Cassy calmly.

'No, don't you "Hermione" me. I don't care what you say, Cassy. The treatment of those poor elves is not good enough. There is no way they can enjoy – enjoy _slavery_! That's what house-elves are. They're slaves,' she said.

'They do like it when they are not being beaten,' insisted Cassy.

'Can you two not start this again, please?' groaned Neville.

'It's hardly fair that they feel like they should punish themselves. No one should ever feel like that. At least the ones at Hogwarts are treated fairly, I bet they have sick leave and pensions and holidays.'

Cassy looked blankly at her, before catching Harry's pleading eye and sitting back in her chair. She fiddled with the cassette.

There was a pause. 'They do don't they?' said Hermione quickly.

'Sure, now-' began Harry.

'How can... how can Dumbledore let that happen?' she cried.

'Hermione,' whined Harry. 'Let it go. If they like working then let them work. They're there on their own accord for the most part anyway. If they didn't like it they would leave.'

Hermione pursed her lips tightly. At the moment she looked as if she might have something else to say on the matter, Neville clapped his hands together quickly. He said, 'Quidditch! Harry, I forgot to tell you that my Gran can pick you up at three on the Wednesday, so you can stay around mine for a few days before the game, if you want.'

'Really? That would be great, Neville,' exclaimed Harry. 'This means I won't have to bother the Weasley's more than necessary.'

'I don't think they mind at all or else they wouldn't be having five guests over to stay,' said Hermione.

'I know, but I would feel better not bothering them so much.'

Cassy put down the tape and let out a small sound. 'That is a shame. The twins had so many ideas that they wanted to try.'

'Ideas?' said Harry warily. His eyes narrowed when she smirked.

'Their plans were marvellous. Grand ones,' she said wistfully, biting back a smile. 'I guess they will just have to wait until you get to the Burrow.'

'They're for _me?_'

Cassy threw her head back and laughed. A light smack was all the retaliation she got from Harry, while he quietly told Neville and Hermione not to encourage her by laughing.

For a time, they spoke about the World Cup. Nearly everyone they knew was attending, although Hermione assured them it would be unlikely that they would cross paths. Thousands of foreign wizards had brought plots on the camp grounds too. The stadium was to be one of the largest ever built and somehow, marvelled Neville, to be entirely hidden from muggle sight.

They began to chat about the Weasley's, then Luna, and then onto what subjects she and Ginny were taking until finally moving onto whether or not anyone had actually completed their summer work yet.

Neville looked guiltily down, but Harry shrugged. 'Everything but Divination. I may have been putting it off.'

'I haven't even finished the Transfiguration essay yet,' moaned Neville.

'I completed mine a few weeks ago, unlike Hermione, who had half of hers done before we left.' She have Hermione a pointed look, but the other did not look remotely embarrassed.

'I wanted to use some wider sources,' she said simply.

'Here, Neville, you can borrow my Transfiguration homework seeing as you're letting me stay round,' said Harry, rising from the bed.

'Really?' asked Neville brightly.

Walking a few steps past Cassy, Harry rummaged through the draw in his desk, before humming and crouching to pull the clasps of his trunk away. Beyond him was a large tear in the wallpaper that had been stuck back together with tape and around it were slightly smaller rips, with equally little tape to bind it back on the wall. Hermione frowned.

'Is that from Dobby?' she asked tersely.

'Is what from what?' mumbled Harry, his head still far in his trunk.

'The rip in the wallpaper. Is that from when Dobby hit his head?'

'Oh, no. That's from when this was Dudley's second bedroom. It's been there ages,' he said. Upon finding his essay, he made a small noise of triumph and scooted back into his position on the bed. It was passed to Neville, who thanked him, before Harry realised there were two sets of eyes boring into his skull. His heart sank visibly.

'Second bedroom?' echoed Cassy.

Harry said nothing for a moment. Each second that passed made Cassy's eyes grow flatter and her eyebrows slowly sunk. She said, 'This house only has four rooms on the first floor. One of those, I am certain, is a bathroom. It has two rooms on the ground floor. Harry, where did you sleep?'

Tensely, Harry looked at his hands. His fingers plucked at the stray hairs on his polo-shirt.

'Harry?' Cassy called firmly. She ducked her head to try and force him to catch her eye, but he averted to looking over her. He shook his head.

There was a very long silence. Harry could not think of a single word to say. Each excuse was lame to the minds of the two brilliant witches in front of him, and as each second passed he knew he had been quiet too long. There was nothing he could do to get out of it, but he knew he could never reasonably tell them while they were in the house. As it turned out, Harry did not need to say anything. Neville piped up.

'My relatives used to call me a Squib before I got my letter. My uncle even dropped me from a window – accidentally. They were trying to see if I had any magic by scaring me into doing something and his hands slipped. I bounced all the way down the path. They were so pleased. Looking back on it now though, I can't even imagine doing that to a kid,' he said.

Remembering Neville had told her the story in first year, Cassy noted the unusual sense of nonchalance that he had. The excitement and humour was gone. She leant back on the chair, folded her arms across her chest and looked between the boys flatly.

'My grandmother used to shut my fingers in the oven door when I had done something she disliked,' she admitted. 'It happened three times before I told Alphard and he never let me see her again.'

There was a large part of Cassy that wanted to push Harry farther, a part that wanted to know exactly what had happened and how he could still stand living her. Yet, she did not. Instead, she watched as his face brightened slightly, his lips pulled into the faintest of smiles. Equally, it was noted that Hermione looked appalled. If it was at anyone in particular, it was not obvious, and Cassy was not surprised.

'I suppose you do not really have any horror stories to share,' she said, startling Hermione.

Slowly, Hermione she her head. 'No,' she said. 'No, I don't. My parents were... they said things made sense when I got visited by Professor McGonagall, but they were happy about it. I even got a lecture on how magic shouldn't fix everything. They wanted me to get braces at their dentistry.'

The Grangers were pleasant people, who laughed and bickered as much as any other couple, but they were witty and fast and Cassy had no problem imagining their quick acceptance of their daughter's peculiar gift. Hermione was closer to her father in disposition and more like her mother in looks, with her bushy brown hair and dark eyes. Yet her mother was more carefree and spontaneous, although Hermione did not seem phased when she came down the next morning to see her mother had replaced all the crockery and rearranged the living room.

'Do you guys want to go to the park? It's just around the corner and it might be a bit better to spread out in than my room,' said Harry.

'Sure, it's boiling in here,' said Neville.

They gathered their things and Hermione fixed her hat back onto her head before they wandered downstairs. Mr and Mrs Dursley were in the living room, looking stiffly at the television without even so much as a smile when the loud buzzer went off and the people started cheering. Mr Dursley had not returned to his shed, most likely in the thought that he best be about in case they steal anything. His hands were still slightly blacked from the dirt and his fingers gripped the green sofa tightly, leaving trails down its covers.

Harry patted his pockets. He asked them all to stay where they were for a moment while he went to get his money so that he could buy them drinks from a local corner shop, he waved off Hermione as she said she had brought some before trotting back upstairs.

As soon as his feet crossed over-head and his door clicked shut, Cassy turned to the little door under the stairs. She had been trying not to appear too interested in it, but she could not help but notice the old holes in the wood from where latches had once been and were now removed, all except one that look particularly new, and one that was very old with a pull across bolt. Slowly, she stepped towards it, flicked the bolt and unhinged the latch, thankful that it did not have its needed padlock. She peeked inside.

On the painted shelf were a few tiny metal soldiers, lined next to a couple of coloured pencils. A thin, sunken mattress lay beneath a new vacuum cleaner. Drawings were pinned to the wall. The brightest one was of the night sky, with a giant man on a motor bike, flying high above the houses.

Just as quietly, she shut it. Her heart had sunk only a little, perhaps in the knowledge that she was merely confirming that he had slept there. The irritation of it all had yet to pass though and the urge to smack the people in the living room doubled, but she refrained. No emotion was shown on her face as she bolted it back up at the sound of Harry's nearing footsteps. When she looked up, Cassy realised both Neville and Hermione had been watching her. Their expressions were sorrowful.

After bidding good-bye to his relatives, Harry directed them to the park. He wandered ahead to lead the way, with Hermione at his side. It almost looked as if the two were squabbling about who was going to buy drinks.

Neville turned to Cassy. 'He copes really well with it, doesn't he? The Dursleys, I mean. I'm not sure I could do half the stuff he does if I had been locked away like that.'

'It would really have been better had my father not been locked away, wouldn't it?' muttered Cassy.

'Well, of course,' said Neville, bemused. 'Did you only just think of that?'

Cassy was quiet for a moment. She glanced at Neville from beneath her sunglasses and then looked down. 'I do not have a problem with how I grew up. I enjoyed it a lot, actually. If I had lived with my father, then I would not have known Alphard nearly as well, nor known Narcissa and Draco in anything but passing. Some of the most important people in my life would be gone. So, I find it hard to wish that anything was different.'

'Cassy, he's your dad, surely you want to live with him if you could?' Neville's voice had taken an odd tone, as if he could not quite believe what he was saying. Cassy knew it was selfish, to say it when she at least had a father and he did not, but she could not stop herself.

'Is he though? I hardly know the man. He vanished from my life before I was two-years-old and appeared twelve-years later. Alphard is more of a father to me, because my biological one was stupid.'

'You can't say that-'

'Yes, I can! Chasing Pettigrew should not have been his first priority. He was being stupid!' snapped Cassy, halting.

Neville stopped moment after and stared at her with wide eyes. Then, his eyes softened. 'He's trying really hard now. He's writing to you both as much as he can, you know that. He'd be here if he could.'

The thought was not comforting at all to Cassy and she was not sure why.

There was a call for them to hurry up from far ahead. The grass was yellow and dying and the metal bars of the apparatus was hot to touch. Peeling paint rubbed away under their hands as they climbed onto the round-a-bout, sitting so their legs dangled down, skimming passed the dropped milkshake cup each time they slowly span past it. The only other people at the park were two girls who swung higher and higher, jumping off again and again.

'I spend most of my summer here when I'm not in the house. Dudley's gang doesn't tend to come around here after a kid's mum shouted at them once when they knocked her son over,' said Harry, leaning back on a bar far behind him.

'I believe the last time I ever went to a park like this was when I was seven,' said Cassy thoughtfully.

'Really?' exclaimed Hermione. 'My parents used to take me all the time when they were free.'

Cassy got the sense Hermione did not particularly care for parks as a child. She said, 'I had better things to learn after reaching eight. My lessons increased. Besides, the last time I went Draco and I had a big fight. I tripped over, although I cannot really remember how, and he laughed at me for it. I was so embarrassed that I took his ice-cream cone and stuck it to a tree. That made him cry and Narcissa was not overly amused about it all.'

'And you and him still claim to get on because...?' asked Harry. His nose was scrunched in amusement at the image.

'He's the closest thing I have to a sibling, so I just imagine it is how thing will be,' said Cassy simply. 'At least you are amused. Ron was rather alarmed when I mentioned the time I strangled Draco with my scarf.'

'You did what?' they said together. Out of the three of them, Harry looked most eager for the story.

Cassy became so wrapped up in her tale, laughing and joking, that she forgot to mention the letter she received from Astoria Greengrass.

* * *

**Character development all round!**

**Strictly speaking, this chapter wasn't needed. I just felt like Harry's entire childhood is glossed over by other characters. I don't even know if they know the full extent of it – they probably wouldn't – but I thought of how Hermione might react and she would be very conflicted. Whereas I know Ron wasn't happy with the bars at Harry's window, yet in true twelve-year-old fashion, he shrugged it off and had a good time. **

**At first I had planned for a confrontation of events, but when I looked at the characters I knew that wasn't likely. Neville and Hermione would be unhappy, but would not push him. Cassy values the privacy and understands the difficulties of family, given her own, so she would let it pass but nor forget it. I wanted to allow them to understand the depth of Harry's issues with his relatives that I don't think he ever broaches properly in the series, so this was my way of introducing that.**

**Also, I wanted to bring a bit more understanding about how Cassy feels about Sirius into it early on. Harry wants love and change, Cassy is less desperate for it, so their perceptions of him will be very different for some time. I think doubt makes it a bit more realistic than blind acceptance at this point.**

**Also, I find it odd that no one bothers just to do day trips to each others' houses. They have a very fast moving bus. It wouldn't be hard. It would hardly be problematic to go and see someone instead of just writing if they were upset or whatever.**

**Thanks!**


	3. The Weasleys' Burrow

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter III: The Weasley's Burrow**

A tall stone building stood some distance away, crooked and leaning, very much giving the impression it should fall at the slightest breeze. It stood fast as the summer wind blew, with one of the four or five chimneys softly wheezing. Underneath the low-set windows was a chicken coop, although most of them were wandering down the path, squawking at the sight of the gnomes peeking out of the bushes.

From the front of the house, a large orchard was visible. Bright fruit hung from the branches. Beyond that were tall trees, nestling the house in solitude with only a long pathway leading up to the country lane. There were some small stone buildings and a particularly rickety looking one that was attached to the house; little bulbs and tools hung in the windows. A little sign leading up to it read 'The Burrow'.

Cassy looked at the house in great fascination. She had never seen anything quite like it, being used to grand houses. Even the oddness of the muggle houses she had visited were not quite as peculiar as the home of the Weasleys. From the end of the path with a bag on her back, she took in the rickety windows and bending drainpipe, slowly stopping at the door that was split in two with the top half pulled open.

'Are you listening at all, Cassiopeia?' said Alphard flatly.

'Yes,' said Cassy. 'Go to the gate on the far left side – the West Gate – if there is any trouble at all. I have to get someone to contact you. I should refrain from parting from my group, and am to keep my money and not bet. Is that all, Uncle?'

She turned and peered at him. He stared back with eyes as flat as his voice. He shook his head slightly. 'Enjoy yourself, but remember what I said.'

'You don't have to go over safety with me. I will not get into trouble.' Cassy almost felt irritated by the startled expression on Alphard's face. Instead, she scrunched her nose and put her hands on her hips. 'More or less.'

'More and more,' muttered Alphard. 'I am trying to prepare the world for when you are let loose on it. I feel as if I am fighting a losing battle.'

Cassy shoved his shoulder.

There was a short shout followed by a cheerful laugh. The door opened fully and a curly haired woman bustled out of the house. Mrs Weasley wiped her hands on her apron as she made her way down the path in her slippers. Her arms were spread wide and Cassy suddenly had the sinking feeling she could not escape the impending hug that was sure to leave her aching for an hour. Smiling, Cassy greeted her from a distance, before she was wrapped in the plump woman's grip, seemingly only having increased her enthusiasm.

'Cassy, dear,' said Mrs Weasley brightly, 'it's so good to see you again. How are you?'

'Fine, thank-you, Mrs Weasley,' said Cassy, moving back to Alphard's side. 'And yourself?'

'Never better, dear,' she said.

Alphard moved forward, nodding his head and greeted her politely. Mrs Weasley smiled with a warmth that Cassy had not expected and she insisted Alphard came in for a cup of tea. He refused, but she waved him towards the house anyway and in his thinly veiled curiosity of all his niece's friends' parents he relented.

'Quickly, I suppose. It would be pleasant to have one before work,' he said.

'Oh, good,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Arthur will be back soon too. Oh, Cassy? They're down by the orchard, just over that fence if you want to go and take a look.'

Cassy smiled and waved her hand at Alphard. She skirted around the house, minding the flowering bushes, particularly the ones that rustled. The back of the house was much like the front, with the exception of a troop of muddy Wellington boots by the door and a thin trodden path that could only have been beaten from the many feet of the seven children that had grown up there. It lead down through the thick trees and straight to the smaller blooming ones she had seen from the gate. Even from a distance, Ginny's hair caught her eye from amongst the branches and Cassy grinned.

'Cassy!' cheered Ginny, skidding to a stop in front of her. 'When did you get here?'

'Just now. Your mother had wrangled Alphard in for a cup of tea,' she said.

'She does that. She likes to get to know everyone. It's kind of embarrassing, really.'

Cassy just smiled. Alphard did to, as much as he disliked people as a whole. There was rarely anyone that Cassy met in her childhood that Alphard was not acquainted with in some way. It was useful and Cassy found herself trying to do the same, but she had yet to build the kind of memory store Alphard was capable of. He just seemed to retain almost everything.

Ginny lead Cassy a bit farther down towards an open paddock. High in the sky was Ron and then some distance closer to the ground was Dean, who looked like he would much rather have his feet on the ground.

'They've been like this all morning. He's not a natural flier,' said Ginny with a laugh.

Ron shouted something down to Dean, who began to tilt sideways as he tried to look up towards him.

'Of course, Dean had never flown beyond the lessons in first year, has he?' said Cassy.

The broom he was on was old, she thought, although she was hardly able to tell one make from another. The end was beaten and crooked, having lost more than a few in the tail to a nasty fall, yet it looked hardly any better off than the one Ron was on. At least Dean's was not drifting backwards on its own accord.

'Ron said Dean can't get into the spirit of the World Cup with him if he doesn't at least play a game himself before we go, although I don't know if they'll ever get to it at this rate,' said Ginny.

Dean had wrote excitedly to her that Ron had invited him with his family to the World Cup. There had been a firm slap of friendly jealousy from both Dean and Ron when Seamus announced one morning that his mother had snagged tickets.

'Better him than me,' replied Cassy.

Ginny turned with her eyebrows raised. 'You don't like flying?'

'I never have. I hated the lessons in first year. I was rather relieved when Neville broke his wrist and the lesson was cancelled. We were hardly allowed to fly more than six foot off the ground for the rest of term,' she said, before rolling her eyes at Ginny's aghast expression. Ignoring it, Cassy looked at the two other red-heads who were farther back in the field. They threw a ball to one another, quickly getting faster and harder as they veered to and jolted to catch it. The one with the sturdier build shot the Quaffle sharply at the other, almost knocking him from his broom and forcing him to retie his ponytail.

'Your brothers Bill and Charlie?' asked Cassy.

'Yeah, they've come for the game too. It's a miracle they've got it off work, Dad says. Anyway, the boys will be back soon,' said Ginny. She turned and began to lead Cassy back up towards the house.

'I did wonder where they were. I expected them to be here early, if at all.'

'They came during breakfast and were dropped off by Neville's great-uncle, I think.' Ginny scrunched up her nose. 'He's a bit weird, to be honest.'

The man had shook Mr Weasley's hand fiercely, introduced himself, tipped his hat and was gone again before anyone had time to register what he had said at all. He apparated, taking Neville's bag with him, which his wife dropped off again moments later, and left his hat to float gently down to the ground before she picked that up too. Neville turned bright red and sunk his head down into his shoulders while Fred and George laughed loudly. No one was sure if the man was deranged, or just excitable. Neville shrugged it off each time. He said it was how he had always been like that.

Cassy laughed a bit. 'He had told me about him before. He's the one who hung Neville from the window.'

'He's definitely got a few screws loose then,' said Ginny.

'So, did they go to collect Hermione?'

'Yeah, they went with my Dad. They were so impressed by his car and Dad was so proud of it he offered to take them with him,' she said.

Cassy raised an eyebrow. 'His car?'

'An old Ford Anglia, or something. He enchanted it a while back, so it flies and then installed an invisibility booster the summer before my first year. He was so pleased. Mum hates it,' Ginny said casually.

Cassy squinted at her, but let the thought go. The shed then made sense with all its little hanging lights and tools in the window. Mr Weasley's love of muggles extended a bit beyond his work then, she supposed, and perhaps that was why Ginny was taking Muggle Studies when only Percy had before her. Still, Cassy shook her head at the idea of anyone having a flying vehicle.

They entered just in time to see Alphard pushing his chair under the table; oddly, it did not match the rest of them. Everything downstairs looked to be open plan and it was difficult to discern where one function ended and another began. The table was long and slightly chipped, but sturdy and old, pots hung from the ceiling not far off, and the sideboards were littered with various papers and letters, many of which looked like bills. The floor was swept and fresh flowers sat on the kitchen window above the sink. Stuffed in a corner were two sofas and an old armchair, the former of which were covered by crocheted throws Mrs Weasley had no doubt made herself.

Alphard patted Cassy on the shoulder as he passed. He said, 'Remember everything I have said and try not to be a nuisance, or next time you want to go somewhere I will make sure it is with your cousins.'

Cassy's nose twitched slightly. 'I will on my best behaviour,' she said quickly.

After a curt farewell to Mrs Weasley, Alphard vanished with a faint pop.

Mrs Weasley took the cup, a nicer one that any placed on the side, back into the kitchen, vanishing beyond the large doorway with only a little chink of crockery. Cassy looked around the room thoroughly, noting the bizarre grandfather clock that had varying length hands, each with a smiling face of a Weasley at the tip. The longest hand, Mr Weasley's, read 'travelling'.

'It isn't too much, I know, but it's our home. What do you think?' said Ginny.

'It is quite unlike anything I have ever seen,' said Cassy, but not unkindly. She smiled slightly and Ginny turned a faint shade of pink.

'Here you are, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. She handed Cassy a glass of orange juice before rummaging around in her apron pocket. 'Lunch is almost ready. It won't take more than -' she held up a small dome with little numbers all around the side that ticked in her hand, 'ten minutes. The boys had better hurry up, or it'll be cold by the time they get back. No matter – what on earth was that? Fred, George!'

The timer was back in Mrs Weasley's pocket and she was half way up the crooked stairs before Cassy had a chance to ask what the terrific bang had been. Then, there was a low rumbling and another thud; Mrs Weasley's hand rapped at the door loudly and Ginny smirked.

'They're in so much trouble,' she said with a laugh.

'What happened?' asked Cassy curiously.

'I don't know. No one knows, which is why mum is being so testy over it. They've been locked in their room nearly all summer with noises like that, but then mum found these order forms.'

'Orders for what?'

'Oh, they're not ordering anything,' said Ginny lowly, as if letting Cassy in on a big secret, 'they've been making order forms to _sell_ things. We thought they just liked the noise, but they've actually been making their own products. Mum found out and she's furious. She'd probably take it better if they had at least got more than a handful of OWLs each...'

Cassy winced. 'A handful? I always thought they were quite smart.'

'That's why she's so mad. She doesn't reckon they tried at all.'

Cassy took a seat at the table, setting her juice down. Ginny followed suit and their voices dropped as Mrs Weasley's roar shook the beams above.

'I would quite like to see what they have been working on though,' said Cassy.

'So would everyone,' snorted Ginny, rolling her eyes. 'Apparently, it's 'Top Secret'. I think I saw them testing something on a kid down the road, but I'm not sure if they were just making him cry.'

Cassy laughed. It was quickly curbed when Mrs Weasley stomped back into the room. Never had the short woman looked as fierce as she did right then, with her shoulders high and her face set in a deadly scowl that she had seen Ginny wear on the odd occasion. Like her son, her ears tinged red in anger. Cassy felt very sorry for the twins for only a second before smiling into her cup when their stark white faces emerged from the staircase. Catching Ginny's eye, they grinned.

Fred and George sat on opposite sides of the table, one next to each of the girls. Ron, Dean, Bill and Charlie traipsed into the house as if smelling lunch from paddock. Bill helped his mother distribute the soup and bread, while Charlie worked quickly to defuse the tension across the table. Even Ron, who squinted at the dirt smeared across George's face, said nothing. Instead, the boys wolfed down their meals and excused themselves once more for Quidditch.

Cassy peered at Ginny, her head bowed. Mrs Weasley still looked furious. One hand was on her temple and the other was holding a napkin tightly. Cassy frowned.

'Mrs Weasley?' she asked, making the other jump.

'Yes, dear?'

'Would you like Ginny and I to wash up? You look... tired.'

Mrs Weasley blinked. She shook her head and pulled her bowl closer to her. 'No, no, don't be silly.'

'It's quite all right,' said Cassy. 'I am staying here. I would like to help.'

'Yeah, mum, it's fine,' said Ginny.

As soon as the hand hesitated, Cassy plastered a sweet smile on her face. It made Mrs Weasley's own smile falter and as her resistance fell, Cassy took the opportunity to take the bowl from her hands.

She and Ginny gathered all the crockery from the table and deposited it on the kitchen counter. They were silent for a moment. Then, the front door clicked shut.

'You've never washed up in your life, have you?' asked Ginny, smiling.

Cassy shook her head and said, 'No, but it is very rude to discomfort your host and your mother looked very stressed. The most courteous action was to make myself less of a burden on her for the duration I am here.'

'This isn't one of your manor houses, you know,' she said, tilting her head sideways. 'You don't have to do things like that with friends.'

Cassy opened her mouth to protest. There was no reason to be rude, friend's mother or not. She could not see what difference manners made in high-society or there, because manners only crumbled between friends and families, not hosts and guests. She made a small huff as Ginny shoved a pair of yellow gloves into her arms. With raised eyebrows, Cassy considered them.

'You offered. You're washing. I'll dry,' stated Ginny.

Cassy's eyebrows rose higher.

'You do know how to wash up, right?'

'Of course. I am not an invalid,' replied Cassy blankly. The fact of the matter was that she really had no desire to put on the rubber gloves, let alone scrub the plates of other people's leftovers. The largest chore Cassy had ever had to deal with was cleaning her bedroom – unless keeping an eye on Draco through their childhood counted, which upon retrospect she was beginning to feel it did. She looked down at the gloves again in disdain.

The tap ran boiling water into the basin as Ginny began sorting through the plates and pots, placing them in piles and sometimes into the sink. She had done it a hundred times before, Cassy could tell. It was methodical and boring. Cassy felt a renewed gladness that she had house-elves.

Somewhere in the distance was a low humming. It grow louder and louder and beyond the garden fence, still some feet in the air was a pale blue car. It flew lower, touching ground easily before rolling up to the boarder and slowing to a halt.

'That's dad with the others,' said Ginny giddily from where she and Cassy were peering through the window. 'C'mon!'

Cassy dropped the gloves with delight and followed Ginny out the back door and around the house. Mrs Weasley was all ready at the car. She kissed Mr Weasley's cheek and clapped her hands together and moved to greet Hermione as she climbed out the back-seat. Neville slid out the other side and Harry slammed the front door shut.

'Good afternoon,' called Cassy. She let Neville hug her and smiled at Harry for a moment. Hermione then attached herself to her with unnervingly good spirit after doing the same to Ginny.

'She's not stopped talking since she saw the car,' said Neville quietly. 'It fascinates her. She had all sorts of questions about how it's allowed that Mr Weasley couldn't answer.'

'That's because we don't think it is,' said Harry with a grin. 'He works in Muggle Artefacts or something, doesn't he? Me and Neville reckon he's stretching the rules a bit.'

It took less than ten seconds for Crookshanks to disappear into the bushes once released from his basket. Hermione waved it off as they took their belongings upstairs to Ginny's room. The room was small with two narrow windows and two beds made up on the floor, obscuring other furniture and making it difficult to tread. The walls were green, occasional streaks of gold stretched across darker squares where posters were hung, signalling the ostentatious Hollyhead Harpies's clawed foot symbol. The players streaked around in their posters and waved. On the far wall above Ginny's bed were several photographs of her family at various ages.

Harry and Neville slipped into the room. They dropped down onto one of the camping beds and the girls did the same after tucking their things into a corner.

'Is that the owl?' asked Harry, his keen eyes spotting a ball of feathers on top of Ginny's wardrobe.

Nodding, she smiled. She said, 'He has to stay in here because he annoys the other owls. He's a little bit hyper and wants to play. Errol is too old though and Hermes pecks at him. Percy always gets worked up that he's too noisy when he's trying to work – he's got a job at the Ministry now. Apparently, I have to share Pig with Ron though. It wasn't fair that he lost Scabbers and then I got an owl, or something like that.' She rolled her eyes and tried to coax the tiny owl towards them. It bustled in excitement and fluttered along the top of the wardrobe, but never got any closer.

'Pig?' asked Neville.

'Pigwidgeon,' clarified Ginny. 'It's cute.'

Cassy stared blankly and slowly looked to Neville, who shrugged while trying not to laugh.

'Ron hates it, but he doesn't answer to anything else,' she said.

'Speaking of letters,' said Cassy, 'have you heard anything from my father, Harry?'

Everyone turned to look at him. He shook his head with a sigh. It had been several weeks since he wrote and even longer since Cassy did. Between them, they had come up with more than a dozen reasons he would not have replied, yet all of them were either unlikely or unlikeable and neither of them wanted to think too hard about it.

'I want him to hurry up. He said he was settled, so I thought the letters would become more frequent. Hedwig's not come back with or without a reply,' said Harry with a frown.

'Relax,' said Cassy easily. 'He is still far away and worrying about it will not help. He is with Remus, if anything had happened we would know about it.'

'You're too relaxed,' said Harry sharply.

'And you are becoming too worked up over - ' began Cassy calmly, yet she was cut off by Harry. He scowled and threw his hands out in front of him as if presenting a grand idea.

'Over my Godfather? Well, yeah, I want him to be all right,' he said, staring at her incredulously.

Over someone you don't even know, thought Cassy. She leant back on the bed, resting her arms behind her and said nothing to Harry. His anger was merely because he was concerned, she knew that having seen it many times before; she could not bring herself to scold him for his tone because it would make no difference now. While his scar must have been playing on his mind, his eagerness for a reply was constantly visible with every fleeting look to the window during their mirror-conversations, even if he did not mention it. Cassy could not help but be a little bit annoyed with him.

'Harry,' said Hermione gently, 'it will be fine.'

A heavy silence flooded the room. Everyone looked around, avoiding each other's eyes as they picked at the blankets, or the cotton hem of their tops. Cassy breathed out lightly, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. Pig squawked from upon the wardrobe, Cassy watched him for a moment.

'I received a letter the other day from Shandy,' she said casually, as if reporting she had brought a new coat.

There was only a slight delay of movement, then, like sparks shooting through their bodies, everyone jumped to life, talking at once. She thought she may have been reprimanded several times for not sharing it sooner, but Cassy was not really listening to the specifics of what they said. They huddled close together, squashing Cassy in the centre of the mass after having pushed her to retrieve the letter from her bag. The letter was picked at and pulled at, with Harry and Hermione fighting on either side of her to get a better look first. Wrangling it back, Cassy cleared her throat. She said, 'Dearest Miss Black.'

Ginny snorted and Harry scrunched his nose. Cassy made the barest huff of acknowledgement and continued.

_Dearest Miss Black,_

_How dare you not present yourself at the annual Greengrass ball! I waited for hours and even braved talking to that cousin of yours (the blond one with the severe looking parents). He said you were not coming. How rude. I suppose I may see you at the Quidditch World Cup – your cousin said you were attending. I never thought you liked sport._

_Regardless, how was your summer? Did you not think last year was simply dreadful? How boring it was – shockingly so. I thought given that Lupin was a werewolf we might have a bit of a treat, but alas! It's a shame he quit. I am quite surprised, seeing as his kind find employment difficult to obtain. Odd, do you not think so? You seemed to talk to him fairly often, so did Potter, any idea what happened? I bet you would not tell me anyway. I will find out._

_To be honest, I was waiting for a big finale where something happened to Potter as it does every year. I imagine you were rather relieved. The whole fiasco with your father breaking into Hogwarts really did amount to nothing. I thought for sure he would make a final showing just before the end of the year, but it was not to be. You might want to keep an eye on Potter though, lots of nasty people at the World Cup. He seems to attract the attention. Perhaps your father might even be there somewhere. That's a fun thought, isn't it?_

I do hope you are suitably enraged now,

_Benjamin Shandy_

Cassy finished reading it out and there was a collective sigh.

'Thank Merlin he didn't figure out about Sirius,' said Harry in relief.

'Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that he's crazy! Look at half the things he said,' squawked Neville.

'He was trying to wind her up. Look, he even admits it,' said Hermione, plucking the letter from Cassy's hand. 'He just wants a reaction – you haven't written back, have you?'

Cassy had and she told them so. The letter was short. It merely stated that she had better things to do than attend a ball of people she did not like – the latter was heavily implied, not stated – and that he should look for alternate outlets for his boredom than the death of other students. It had been signed curtly and sent the same evening. There had been no reply.

'I dearly hope we miss him at the World Cup,' said Cassy frankly. The letter was folded back into her bag and everyone moved to distribute themselves equally across the three beds.

'There's going to be thousands of people there. What are the chances of bumping into him?' said Ginny. 'The only person I plan on seeing is Luna. She gave me her tent number before she left. She's been there for a week all ready.'

'Why?' asked Harry with a frown.

Ginny shrugged. 'She said something about the grounds being infested with something or other. They think it's going to affect people's sleep and make them cranky. I imagine their plot will be heavily protected.'

Mid-way through talking, Ron and Dean pushed open Ginny's door without even a knock. Ron shut the door and slumped onto Ginny's bed, who did not bat an eyelash at his behaviour until she finished talking. Then, he received a very sharp demand to leave.

'Why?' he said. 'I haven't done anything.'

'You didn't ask to come in,' she said.

'So?'

'I always have to ask to go into your room and even then you sometimes ignore me.'

'Yeah, well, it's hard to know if someone is knocking on the door or if the ghouls messing with the pipes again,' he said, sprawling himself out and stretching his long legs behind Ginny. 'Take a seat, Dean.'

Dean hovered for a moment before smiling slightly as Ginny gestured to the beds on the floor. He set himself down beside Cassy, who moved up to make room, and grinned at her in greeting.

'So who were you talking about?' asked Ron.

'Luna – you know, my friend from Ravenclaw?' said Ginny slowly.

'Oh.' Ron grimaced suddenly. 'The er – the odd one.'

Ron flinched to the side as soon as the words left his mouth and Cassy briefly wondered if Ginny had perhaps smacked him a few times for insulting the airy blonde over the summer.

'Yes, her. We're on about meeting her at the Cup,' said Ginny.

Ron's face lit up in a serene glow. His shoulders slumped and his expression became increasingly distant. It was as if Ginny had cast a spell on him and all of his dreams had come true at once. The lights and bright banners were almost visible in his eyes, the roar of the game on his lips as he drew back into the room at the sound of sniggering.

'Not long now!' he roared. 'Just fourteen hours until we're at the field. One day until it begins. I can't believe we're actually going. I can't wait -'

'We hadn't guessed, Ron,' said Dean with a grin. 'It's only all you've been saying all day.'

'This isn't like your football matches, this is the Quidditch World Cup! It's a once in a lifetime event,' exclaimed Ron.

Dean shot him a dubious look and muttered about trying to compete with tickets to a football world cup. Shaking his head, Ron launched back into a list of reasons Quidditch was to be so much more fun, but no one was really listening. As he spoke, Ginny leant over to them, cupping her hands around her mouth.

'I thought you should all know,' she said in a loud whisper, 'that Ron is utterly in love with the Bulgarian Seeker, Victor Krum.'

In a split second Ron was scarlet.

* * *

**Chapter three complete!**

**As much as Cassy is relaxing in life, she will never forget her manners. I model wizards on a more Victorian era sense, only with looser morals and more equality. Manners are important, so I don't think any persuasion from her friends will ever stop her wanting to be a good guest or host.**

**Next is the Quidditch World Cup which will get some things really rolling on this year.**

**I have done two updates now because I am busy next month and it might not be until late in May when I can update. It should be regular from there though.**

**Thanks!**


	4. Tents and teases

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter IV: Tents and teases**

Waking up before sunrise was never high on Cassy's list of favourite things to do in life and she made it very obvious the next morning. It was fortunate that Hermione had lived with her for nine months a year for three, nearly four years; she had become accustomed to the difficulties of waking the other when she had slept in too long, mostly due to reading so late into the night. She hovered beside Cassy's bed half-dressed, threatening to drag out when Cassy rolled onto her front and gripped rightly onto the edges of the camping bed, silently and sleepily daring Hermione to try.

Breakfast was short and the walk to the portkey was long. The sun was barely rising over the rolling Devonshire hills when they found it, an old boot on a grassy peak. Beside it stood a man, short and balding, next to who they recognised as Cedric Diggory. He stood tall with a wide smile on his face, greeting them with joyous grey eyes and styled hair that made it difficult to believe he had any troubles with early mornings.

There was a brief sense of satisfaction when Cassy remained on her feet after the portkey landed. Her friends were sprawled across the ground and Diggory smiled at her, laughing slightly as he helped pull the girls to their feet. Harry fought his way out of Ron's gangly limbs, who then elbowed Neville in the face as he recoiled from Harry's hand pressing into his diaphragm.

Mr Weasley met with the irritated man several feet away, who looked less than comfortable in peculiar muggle clothing that had Hermione giggling and Dean wincing.

'I don't think anyone's worn that since the eighteen-hundreds – oh, no, that one's in a kilt and poncho,' he muttered, sending Hermione into another burst of laughter.

Mr Weasley waved them on and they waved shortly to Diggory before following through the misty moors. On one side was a large, dark forest and in front of that sat a small cottage with a man outside of it, gazing up from the line of tents as they drew closer. He smiled and handed them two tents, although his expression began to falter as Mr Weasley struggled with the muggle currency. He squinted down at the paper notes.

'It's in the corner,' mumbled Harry, stepping up to aid Mr Weasley as Mr Roberts, the Muggle, listened very carefully to everything Mr Weasley had been muttering to himself. He let out a small 'ah', finally spotting the tiny value.

Cassy watched curiously as Mr Roberts slumped, dazed and confused, after a ministry official jumped out of a nearby bush and obliviated him. He handed over a map to the campsite and their change, before smiling to himself and sitting down contently on a small, wooden stool. He never mentioned the strangeness of the business, nor the odd clothes some foreign wizards were wearing again. His memory was completely gone and from what Cassy could tell, it was not the first time either.

'He needs one about ten times a day,' said the official when Cassy asked, slipping his wand back in his pocket. 'He's a nightmare. Too clever, not that anyone is helping really, not even Bagman. He keeps talking about bloody Bludgers to anyone who he catches.' The man bid good-bye to Mr Weasley and Disapparated.

'Should they really be doing that?' said Neville worriedly as they began to follow Mr Weasley through the field once more. 'He looks really out of it.'

'Most likely not,' said Cassy calmly. 'They really should have replaced him with someone else, but I suppose that requires more ministry funding and they are all ready spending fortunes on this as it is. I expect he will be fine. It's only short-term memories, after all. They are less engrained, are they not?'

Neville shrugged. 'I'd rather have all my memories, to be honest, short or long-term. I thought erasing them can make it more difficult for people to remember things at all, especially if he's been on duty most of this past week. What if it permanently makes him confused?'

'Then the ministry will be in hell,' said Cassy frankly.

Hermione looked at the two as if their conversation had sparked something in her own mind. Her eyes blazed with curiosity that made Cassy purse her lips. She had no desire to answer one-hundred and one questions today on the complex theory of the mind, nor admit she was not particularly proficient in that area – although that was something she intended to change very soon. Staring ahead, she heard Hermione's intake of breath and quickly picked up pace, running to Dean's side. The huff was audible.

They chatted through the fields of tents, some of which sported chimneys and door knockers. It was no surprise that Mr Roberts had become suspicious so many times, no one was really trying to be secretive, especially not the further they walked, as the tents grew larger and more ostentatious, some being made of fine, rich silks and peacocks tethered by the entrance.

'It's not really camping, is it?' asked Dean with a short laugh as a peacock flung up its feathers, scaring the life out of the family beside it.

'I wouldn't know,' said Cassy. 'I have never been.'

'Really?' he asked, eyebrows raised high for only a moment. They lowered again and he nodded slowly to himself. 'Actually, that doesn't surprise me. I suppose you have a summer house near a beach somewhere that you go to?' He grinned down at her and she smirked back, neither conforming nor denying it.

'I've been loads of times,' said Ron from the other side of Dean. 'It's the only type of holiday we've ever had, besides Egypt. There are just too many of us to do much else.'

His ears turned pink. Cassy knew it was more likely the lack of money that had stopped the Weasley family going elsewhere, camping was, after all, relatively inexpensive although she was surprised they holidayed at all. However, Dean was nodding along with him.

'Well, you know that I have three sisters,' he said.

Ron winced. 'Yeah, must be a nightmare.'

There was a sharp gasp followed by loud spluttering. Ron doubled over, holding his stomach tightly and revealing the slender frame of his sister, who stared down at him pointedly.

'Merlin, Ginny,' he wheezed. 'Why?'

'I'm just living up to the nightmare standard you set for me,' she said cheerfully. She flicked her hair and strode to catch up with Fred and George, who were lurching around an orange tent with barrels piled outside.

Dean stared and then pointed. 'Did she just kidney punch him?'

'Yes,' said Cassy joyfully.

Dean looked like he wanted to say something else, but shook his head. He eyed Ginny warily, as if she might come around for a second go, then grinned down at Ron, rolling his eyes.

'She can't have hit you that hard.'

'Do you want me to punch you in the kidney?' ground out Ron. He eased himself upright and Dean snorted.

Soon, the group came to a halt at an empty plot with only a small sign to let it know it was theirs. Mr Weasley clapped his hands and had them divide up to help set up the tents without magic. No one was certain it mattered as far into the grounds as they were, but he insisted, diving straight in and pulling the poles out haphazardly.

Cassy offered input occasionally, but expressed no desire to kneel on the floor and actually help. She watched as Hermione threaded a pole through the fabric to Harry, who then began to pull on the strings that Dean then nailed into the dry summer ground.

Beside them, Mr Weasley's tent look less than half as shapely, and Fred and George were jabbing each other with two of the smaller poles, almost tearing a hole in the neighbours tent as George's went flying out of his hands.

'Boys,' said Mr Weasley, not looking up.

With a frown, Cassy considered the scene.

'People do this for fun? Why?' she asked.

'It's not that bad,' said Hermione.

'I've never been,' shrugged Harry.

'It's fine once the tent is up,' said Dean triumphantly, springing up as the last peg was hammered in.

It took them another ten minutes to pull apart the other tent and manoeuvre around Mr Weasley to set it up. Once done, he crawled under the flap of the tent and Cassy watched in amusement as Harry followed curiously, his eyes widening drastically before clambering through. He peered around, noting the many beds and the table, even the small kitchen section in the far corner, although it was decorated as though using the furniture from a recently deceased grandparent and smelt as such.

'You did not really think the ten of you would all fit in a tiny tent, did you?' muttered Cassy, barely restricting her smile.

'I suppose I shouldn't have,' he replied, 'although there's only eight beds.'

'Sorry about that,' said Mr Weasley while giving Ron a bucket and ushering him out the flap again. 'I borrowed this from Perkins. It was the largest one I could find, so two people will have to sleep on the floor.'

'We did suggest two sleep in the girl's tent, but that was shot down immediately,' said Fred.

'No,' Mr Weasley interjected. 'It's not proper.'

The task of making a fire – upon the insistence of Mr Weasley, who simply refused to use the oven as strictly no magic was allowed – was left up to him and the twins. The boys set off towards the forest only feet from their tents to collect wood, while Mr Weasley rummaged through his bag for matches.

It was at that point that Cassy, Harry, Neville, Hermione and Ginny escaped with nothing more than a quick good-bye and a peak into the girls' tent. They wanted behind their tents and beyond towards the sea of green. Ginny glanced down at the torn bit of parchment in her hand every now and then. She directed them slowly, stopping to watch the waking witches and wizards eagerly. They ducked and dodged past several families with young children who most likely would not even remember the event in a few years, then past their parents, who all looked notably frazzled, having lost their children amongst the busy grounds moments after opening their tent door.

There were many fires, some obviously conjured as people lazed around them, some occupants trying more noticeably hard to follow the ban on magic, with tiny matches scattered across the yellowing grass. Flags were hung between tents, many American and French, but soon they all gave way to green, white and orange.

'We've hit the Irish,' said Ginny.

'You bet you have!' came a shout not far from them.

They all turned to see the beaming face of Seamus Finnigan, his face was red from sunburn and clashed horribly with the bright green bowler hat he wore, complete with shamrock print. He waved and jogged over to them. Everyone greeted him as he inspected their clothes.

'Supporting Ireland?' he asked with raised eyebrows at their plain garments.

'Of course,' said Neville.

'Ron's not though,' said Ginny.

Seamus turned to her and rolled his eyes. He said, 'Of course not, he's got a bit of a thing for that Bulgarian Seeker, doesn't he?'

Everyone laughed.

'How long have you been here?' asked Harry.

'Got here yesterday afternoon. You're cutting it pretty close to arrive on the day of the match,' replied Seamus. 'Where are Dean and Ron?'

'Getting water,' said Hermione. 'Do you want us to send them your way when we get back?'

Seamus grinned and they parted ways shortly after. They followed the rows of tents for a long time, until Harry paused. He stood on his tiptoes, stretching his neck to peer between two tents. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

'I know that everyone's decorated their tent, but did Luna mention anything about attaching two giant horns to the front of hers?' he said loudly, gathering his friends around.

Ginny frowned. Luna had not said what her tent looked like at all.

'What's the number on the sign on the front?' she asked.

Harry frowned down at her. 'I can't see that clearly.'

'I would have thought catching the Snitch all the time meant you would be good with details,' she said, turning the faintest shade of pink and Harry shook his head.

'I can see it, but I can't read it. It's like, I know the Snitch is there, but I never see it wholly. I think it says... four... three... maybe eight... eight, or maybe six or three...' He squinted intensely, still on tiptoes, until his balance wavered and he set himself back on the ground. There was no sign of the Lovegoods, that he had noticed, beyond the odd decoration that did not quite fit in with the sea of green surrounding the small tent. Still, he looked to Ginny, who was nodding along.

'Luna said her tent is number four-hundred and eighty-eight. That's probably it.'

There was a few sneers and jibes as the group cut between the tents closest. Neville uprooted a tent peg that caused a corner to sag, the couple who owned it shouted, but Neville kept his back to them as his face went a brilliant shade of red. They hurried down a few spaces towards the little tent, its decorations were packed tightly into every available space and outside it sat a small, roaring fire.

Ginny crouched and called, 'Luna?'

There was an uncertain pause and everyone shifted and sighed. Just as Ginny rose to her feet, the flap of the tent unzipped and a head of messy blonde hair poked out. Her huge eyes were all ready crinkled into a smile.

'Good morning,' she said airily. Like Seamus, she was all ready dressed for the game later that day. Her cheek had a large shamrock painted onto it and her radish earrings swapped for large, shining gold leprechaun coins.

They all greeted her, Ginny and Neville both going in for a hug. Neville's face burnt brighter when Luna asked if he was going to be supporting Bulgaria later tonight.

'Oh, sorry,' she said, 'I thought it was painted. Red suits you very well.'

Neville mumbled something that sounded like 'thank-you', but no one was sure and Cassy's low chuckling did not help. He shot her a withered glare the moment Luna turned away.

'How was your summer?' asked Harry.

'Delightful,' she said, 'although it is a shame that we had to cancel usual summer trip to the continent this year. We go every year, you see, to find creatures to publish in the Quibbler. Daddy hopes to go to Sweden in the next few years to see if he can find the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. It's the only place the live.'

Cassy doubted this very much and from the look on Hermione's face, she doubted it even more. Neville and Ginny smiled at her though and Harry managed a small 'Oh, that's nice, Luna', before conceding control of the conversation to Neville as he moved to stand behind him, closer to Cassy and Hermione.

Hermione however, scrunched up her nose. She said, 'The what? I've never heard of such a creature. Are you sure it's real at all?'

Neville bit his lip as Luna turned to Hermione, blinking owlishly. However, before Neville could think of something to say, a second figure emerged from the tent. He was tall, with shoulder length hair the same colour as Luna's, but it was puffy and moved as one mass as the breeze blew. He wore painfully bright green robes and a gold chain around his neck with a strange amalgamation of shapes within a triangle hanging as the pendent.

'Good morning,' he said, looking between the teenagers.

'Hello, Sir,' said Cassy, merging in with greetings from her friends.

The man, as she supposed, introduced himself as Luna's father, Xenophillius. He was an odd man, with less of an air of nonsense, but just as calm and uncompromising in his opinions as his daughter. His eyes had lingered on Hermione as he spoke, informing them that he and his daughter had done their best to ensure there was not cheating by those on the continent – he seemed to be under the impression that whatever had infested the grounds did not so because it lived there, but rather because the Bulgarian supporters had placed them there maliciously.

Hermione's lips pursed ever so slightly as she did her best not to react, but her head was slightly shaking side to side. Likewise, Cassy had lowered her eyebrows a fraction in what could be mistaken as squinting from the glare of the August sun. The pair's eyes met. One of Cassy's eyebrows twitched upwards and Hermione's mouth slouched down at the corners into a grimace for the briefest of seconds and the two connected in a moment of complete understanding.

As her father spoke, Luna's head began to tilt farther sideways until she twisted and looked up at him. She said, 'Daddy, can I spend the afternoon with them?'

Mr Lovegood nodded and hugged Luna tightly. He waved them off while everyone hurried back down the line of tents in the first direction that sprung to mind.

'Your, er- your dad seems nice,' said Neville, hanging back to allow Luna to catch up.

She smiled at him, her hands woven behind her back.

'Nice?' breathed Hermione. 'He's out of his mind. No wonder Luna comes out with the things she does!'

'Luna's not _that_ bad. The creatures do not bother me, but his notions on the world... I would wager are a little too off balance for me,' murmured back Cassy.

Hermione scoffed. 'That's one bet I won't take against you.'

The group walked the entire stretch of the field, wandering farther into another area beyond the lining of trees, somewhere closer to their own tents, yet more unfamiliar looking than the vast expanse of Ireland supporters had been. Trees thinned and the ground became even as the shallow roots disappeared under thick, plush grass, softer and more alive than any they had seen so far. Canopies swung from across the tents, connecting them and offering shade, some even having chairs and tables set underneath. Small families gathered around each other, talking quietly, far quieter than those they had seen before – but then they were not families at all.

There was a dull sinking in her stomach. Cassy narrowed her eyes and surveyed the people carefully, noting their clothes, the well-tailored trousers and their fine shirts, the women in their modest dresses that hit just below the knee, hats wide-brimmed and colourful. Not only did the field lack sound, but it lacked colour. No decorations hung from the sloping canopies; no painted faces and noisy children.

To one side there was a small group of children, the largest being no older than seven, but they did not run or scream in excitement. They huddled and sat quietly, flicking through what Cassy thought might be a manual of the event that evening. Even they had on their best clothes, although not speaking a word of English.

'We should probably leave,' said Cassy quietly to Harry. She leant close to his side, not meeting his eye and encouraging him to look around himself.

He frowned slightly for a second, before his eyebrows dipped even lower.

'Oh,' he said, halting where he was. 'I think we've wandered a bit too far out.'

'What's wrong?' asked Neville.

'Take a look. I don't think we will be too welcome here,' he said. He turned back to them and everyone was beginning to catch on as to exactly where they had wound up. No one had spared her more than a quick glance and suddenly Cassy felt thankful that she had ignored Hermione and Ginny's protests when she had put on the best dress she had packed and woven her hair into a braided crown that morning.

'I know the way back from that flag,' said Harry, pointing to the faint yellow strip that could be seen between the thick branches of the trees.

'You can come back with us to our tent, Luna. I'll walk you back before the match,' said Neville kindly.

Cassy's eyebrows rose again and she had a brief idea that Neville was purposely not meeting her eye. She did catch Harry's and he blinked at her, one eyebrows rising too. They smiled cheekily, trying their hardest not to. Cassy looked away as Hermione turned and her smile slipped from her lips.

Luna accepted with a smile of her own and the group turned to head back to the thinned parting in the trees. Only, Cassy did not. She remained where she stood, head turned with a blank stare aimed somewhere between the tents. Staring back at her was a pair of coal-black eyes. They were wide for only the briefest of seconds, then they crinkled as a wide grin spread across his narrow face, revealing perfect, pearly white teeth.

'Cassy?' said a voice from behind her. She might have jumped, had she not seen the shadow fall across hers a time before. 'What are you looking at?'

'An unfortunate accident,' said Cassy lowly.

Harry ducked his head next to hers. 'I don't – oh. Oh, now I do. Oh, great. We should just go before he decides to give life advice again, or better yet, points out someone who wants to kill me.'

'It is a bit late for that,' said Cassy. 'He has all ready seen us.'

Harry sighed and stood beside her as Shandy began walking towards them. His beaming smile clearly visible, almost as bright as his shining shoes. A pale hung from his hands, sloshing with every step he took.

'Good morning!' he called cheerfully from a distance.

'Shandy,' greeted Cassy curtly.

'Enjoying yourselves?' he asked, standing close.

Cassy did not back away. Instead, she stood with a hand on her hip, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, as if very bored. She spoke lowly in a long, drawling tone that reminded Harry very much of Draco Malfoy, 'It is pleasant enough, but what is there to truly enjoy? The match is not until tonight and there are far too many people.'

'Socialising, perhaps?' he said slowly. 'Not that you are very good at it, given the friends you have.'

Shandy was the last person Cassy wanted to hear something like that from.

'Oh, and you have an abundance of friends now, Shandy? How things have changed over the summer.'

He did not reply. Instead he was peering over her head at her friends, who seemed to have realised neither she nor Harry had been with them and wandered back. Dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a split second, then the look was gone and he was smirking again.

'You should be careful, Potter. This is not the greatest of places for you to be, you know,' he said as if reassuring an old friend.

'Oh, no, he's quite safe here,' said a voice from behind, Cassy slightly inclined her head towards Luna. 'There are far too many people here for that. Unless, of course, Sirius Black took on another's face again. Last year I think it was Professor Sinasta, because really, how often do you see her? If he is here, I suspect Ludo Bagman, he is quite inconspicuous.'

Cassy squinted a bit at her words, but it was nothing compared to the way that Shandy's face twisted. His eyebrows shot down and his nose crinkled, pulling back his lips into an unbelievable grimace. Turning, he fixed Harry with a pointed stare.

'Look, I know you like to collect your oddballs, your little rag-tag team of misfits,' he said, gesturing around the group, 'but surely this one is a little half-baked even for you?'

Harry turned a faint shade of pink, either from embarrassment or anger, and took a step closer to Shandy, a sneer on his lips. Before he had a chance to say anything though, Shandy was wrenched backwards. He stumbled, grabbing onto the other and was quickly shrugged off.

'Thank-you for stealing my pale, _Benji_,' said the boy.

'No problem, _Stevie_,' said Shandy brightly. He looked down at Cassy once more, then back to the boy. 'This is Miss Black; Miss Black, this is Stevie.'

'Stephen Goodridge,' corrected the boy quickly, as though expecting it. He was tall, tall enough to rival Ron, pale-skinned with brown hair and hazel eyes; his face was angular and his sneer revealed straight white teeth. Somewhere in the back of Cassy's mind she registered two things, the first being that this boy was the Ravenclaw that Shandy usually dragged around with him, while the second was that he was rather handsome.

'Cassiopeia Black,' she said in turn.

Grinning, Shandy placed a hand on both Cassy and Goodridge's shoulders, shaking them slightly. He looked between the pair with an odd, indiscernible expression. He said, 'Great. Now that-'

'Do not touch me,' said Cassy quickly, shrugging his hand off within seconds.

'What, afraid of a little human contact?' he jeered, but did not bring his hand to her again.

'I hardly consider you human,' she said coolly.

Goodridge snorted and pursed his lips, trying not to smile and said, 'You shouldn't say things like that, you will only encourage him.'

Shandy did look rather pleased. There was a small smile on his face, one that Cassy had only seen leave on very rare occasions, and he looked no farther than the pair of them. Her friends were ignored, their presences being brushed aside entirely and Cassy felt more confident for it. Suddenly, it was as if she was ten-years-old again, sneering and playing with the boys who thought she was a little bit weird, concentrating on no one else but her and her own triumph over their stupidity in what should have been a fun game.

'I'm glad you two get along. Don't worry though, you are still by favourite, Stevie,' said Shandy.

Goodridge rolled his eyes and swung his bucket at Shandy, sloshing water across the grass and narrowly missing bashing it into Shandy's kneecaps. Water soaked his shining shoes and the hems of his pressed trousers, earning a low huff. Goodridge ignored him as Shandy shouted about his rudeness. He disappeared behind the tents.

'Charming,' he said, shaking his feet. 'Black, are you not curious what's happening at Hogwart's at all?'

Cassy wondered how he knew she did not know, and inclined her head to the side slightly. She was, undoubtedly she was curious, with the Weasley's having spoken of it, with Alphard's own determinedness not to let on the slightest bit, and dare she think of having to face Draco with her ignorance – he would know, surely, and be ever so smug that it made her irritated just thinking about it. Yet, she shook her head and smiled pleasantly.

'Some of us like surprises in our lives,' she said simply.

He looked up at her and raised his eyebrow. 'This is the worst kept surprise in the history of magic. Ask one question to the right wizard and they'll tell you everything you need to know.'

'Is that not the same with everything?' she asked. 'Good-bye, Benjamin Shandy. Have a pleasant enough day.'

Cassy span on her heel and had weaved her way through her friends before Shandy had even had a chance to shout. They caught up to her quickly, gathering closely as they walked, firing questions rapidly, that Cassy either ignored or shook her head. No, she did not know what the point of all that was; she did not know what was happening at the school; she was fairly certain that Shandy was indeed unhinged; no, she did not know who Stephen Goodridge was.

'He's a Ravenclaw from the year above,' said Luna, answering Hermione's question. 'He's not very social, a bit shy most people think, but he's nice enough and it makes him quite popular with the girls, although he's never shown much interest.'

'How do you know so much about him?' asked Harry, curiously looking back at her.

'He's very smart. The fifth-year Ravenclaws have a strong rivalry between them and he is always said to be the one to beat, so word gets around when a big test is coming up.'

'Does he ever lose?' asked Hermione.

'No.'

Harry's lips curled slightly. It was just what they needed, he thought bitterly, for Shandy to have a genius friend. He wondered how much Goodridge knew, or how close the two were. He wondered if Goodridge was going to be as frustratingly distant while teasing them knowingly and if Shandy had intended for Cassy and him to meet, having held the pale to coach him over. Frowning deeper, he looked down at his short friend.

'And you and Goodridge have never met before?' he asked her.

Cassy shook her head and admitted that she had seen him around, but the pair had never spoken or acknowledged each other past flat eye contact when Shandy was teasing her outside Muggle Studies.

Still, Harry frowned.

'He sounds normal though,' said Hermione, coming out of a conversation with Luna. 'I wonder how he ended up with Shandy if he could have friends elsewhere...'

'He does,' said Luna. 'I see him with a few people quite often, usually the same.'

'So, then why hang around with Shandy?' Hermione hummed to herself, stepping over a tent peg absently. 'Shandy is undoubtedly intelligent, but then Goodridge is a Ravenclaw, there must be loads of them... No, no, there must be another reason to draw Shandy to him-'

'What makes you think Shandy approached him?' asked Neville, frowning deeply.

Hermione blinked. 'Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?' she said and looked between her friends. While everyone stared back at her bemusedly, Cassy had her eyes narrowed a fraction and it made Hermione's fingers itch and her curiosity peak. She wanted to ask so many questions and swap ideas, to confer and to figure this out before it stretched any further, but then she remembered Cassy's rather debonair approach and her willingness to let Shandy linger a bit longer. She expanded no more, but watched the back of Cassy's head intently for the rest of the journey to the tent.

When they arrived back, Mr Weasley was frying sausages by the dozen, with the boys surrounding it closely, sandwiches in hand. Cassy knelt down next to Fred and George as Ron quipped that they had been gone too long and Mr Weasley offered Luna lunch. Cassy inclined her head to them, speaking lowly but casually.

'Have you ever heard of anyone called Stephen Goodridge?' she asked. It seemed like a bit of a long shot, given that the twins would be in the year above him and in a different house, but if anyone there knew everyone, it was most likely to be them. Much to her surprise, they nodded, simultaneously swallowing.

'Yeah, he's in the year below us, Ravenclaw,' said George.

'Why?' asked Fred, a wide grin slowly splitting his face. 'Got a crush?'

'No,' scoffed Cassy sharply. 'I hardly know him. We just met.'

'Sometimes that's all you need,' said George airily.

'One look,' said Fred wistfully.

'Your eyes meeting for that split second-'

'Then your heart sings!'

'You can't get him off your mind-'

'You simply must have him-'

'I am not in love with him,' hiss Cassy lowly. She felt her cheeks beginning to turn red as the other people around the fire began to stare. 'He is friends with someone I dislike very much, so I am social profiling.'

'Oh, really?' said Fred, raising one eyebrow. 'We don't know enough for that.'

'But, we can tell you that he spends most of his time in the library,' offered George, 'which is a shame, because he's really good at detecting our pranks, at least, he was in first year.'

'Sometimes I wonder if we're the reason he spends so long studying. I fear we may have driven him the wrong way, you see, he has a wicked sense of humour.'

'Sarcastic through and through.'

'He's the type of person Ron would hate because he'd never understand a word he was saying.'

'At least not in the right manner.'

'Thank-you,' huffed Cassy. She breathed deeply, willing her cheeks to cool, but found the heat only intensified as they caught the curious eyes of the others. Regardless, she took the sausage sandwich from Mr Weasley with her head high and a polite thank-you. When he turned away, she picked at the bread and inspected the inside, never having eaten anything like it before.

'Not your cup of tea, your Majesty?' asked Dean, waving his own half-eaten one.

'Just looking,' she said, brushing off the nickname. She bit into the corner and found that beside the very cheap bread, it was actually acceptable, if not pleasant. Not that she would say it aloud, or else she would never be allowed to visit again, Narcissa would ensure that.

'So what's this about you being in love?' asked Ron suddenly.

Cassy almost choked.

'Yeah,' chimed Ginny, ' what were you three talking about all hushed?'

'Nothing,' said Cassy, 'I am not in love with anyone.'

'At least not who we were talking about,' said George, patting Cassy's shoulder tightly. 'We've all ready decided who she's going to end up with.'

'Excuse me?' said Cassy dully.

'The only thing we can't agree on is when,' said Fred. 'I think sixth-year, but George thinks fifth. We've even got a little wager on it.'

'I very much dislike you both right now,' muttered Cassy and George's hand gripped tighter.

There was sudden life around the fire and many questions were fired at the twins, none of which they answered properly. They laughed and hinted, but never gave anything away, although that did not stop anyone from trying to piece together the dots. Harry laughed, but remained quiet, which Cassy was thankful for as she shot him a look of long suffering; he offered a small smile in return. The more she tried to silence them, the more everyone seemed to think they were getting closer.

At no point had Cassy ever been so thankful for the appearance of Ludo Bagman. He had swept Mr Weasley away - only the latter made the effort to quell his voice. It look seconds for the attention to shift back to the match that evening and then quickly over to the big secret the school was hiding as Bill sighed wistfully. Fred and George trotted over to make a ridiculous bet with all of their saving on Ireland to win, but Bulgaria to catch the Snitch.

At the sharp shout of 'Barty!' Cassy slid her eyes over to the three men some distance away. Bagman's mouth was moving quickly, but she managed to make out the words 'they've signed' and 'happening at Hogwarts'. She shook her head. It was truly the worst kept secret.

* * *

**Another introduction of a new character that comes into play this year. Shandy and Stephen will really be involved this year, leading up to fifth and sixth, where they'll continue to be important in both Cassy's development, but the ongoing development on the Wizarding World and it's outlook.**

**I tried not to make the chapter too long and skipped over much of the original description, but there are things I had to mention, so I hope the chapter wasn't too dull. I have had this written up for a while and now reading it back it is a bit jumpy, but I don't have time to do mass editing. I have a three day exam to prepare for and if I don't post this now then another chapter won't be up until the end of the month. **

**I didn't originally intend for the teasing from Fred and George, but I felt like they were the type and with Cassy being so private, she would die inside and they'd know that. It wasn't as if she was suffering enough with the brand new experience of camping as it was!**

**Hope you like it.**

**Thanks!**


	5. Look to the sky

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter V: Look to the sky**

Thousands of people were gathered below, cheering and shouting, waving programs with one hand and spilling the drink in the other as they jostled with each word from the commentator. Bright lights flashed across the cloth strips that hung from the railings, words and pictures chopping and changing, advertising drinks and clothing, brooms and holidays, although Cassy did not think anyone was particularly paying the slightest bit of attention to them the moment the pitch had lit up under the dozen spotlights.

There was an awkwardness in the top box where she sat with her friends and the Weasley family. An awkwardness that she revelled in; it was delightful, if unfamiliar, with the burning eyes of the Malfoys digging into the side of her skull as she stood without a care next to a group of people considered the largest blood-traitors of the century. She did not bat an eyelid at Draco's jabs, nor at Lucius' sneer, and kept her eyes on the field as a stream of red fled from the end of the stadium. Then, their company was all but forgotten.

Gone were the thoughts of Dobby and Winky the house-elf, whom Mr Crouch had cruelly brought along, gone were the prying eyes of the foreign officials as they vied to get a better look at Harry's scar, and gone was a lot of the respect Cassy held for the boys.

'Veela,' breather Mr Weasley suddenly, polishing his glasses on his robes before peering intensely down at the stadium floor.

Out from one of the side doors sprinted a hundred figures, tall and graceful, their skin glowing in the moonlight and their hair like crushed velvet flowing behind them, contorting effortlessly with every twitch of their bodies. They were stunningly beautiful. They quite easily shamed all other women in the stadium and had Cassy been any less sure of herself she might have felt very self-conscious at that moment, but as it was, she found herself conflicted over whether or not to stop the boys from throwing themselves over the wall of the box in their efforts to get closer.

'What on Earth are they doing?' muttered Hermione.

'Veela allure men,' explained Cassy, 'or women. They attract and people often find themselves doing ridiculous things in their presence.'

Hermione let out a hum and pushed Neville back down into his seat as he threatened to topple over while attempting to get a better look. Beside him was Ron and Dean, the latter of whom held the other around the waist, pulling him down from where he stood on the seat of a chair. For a moment, Cassy thought Dean had been unaffected, but once Ron was on the ground, Dean clambered up and resumed Ron's position, looking very much like he was about to dive over the railings.

Cassy sniggered into her hand, biting her lip as Ron swiped at Dean's legs and tried to climb up too.

'Honestly,' said Hermione. She pushed Neville back into his seat again. 'Harry, what do you think you're doing?'

He had one foot up on the railings, his hands on either side ready to jump, but he did not. Instead, he turned slowly at Hermione's voice, blinking. A small hum escaped his mouth and he backed away, shaking his head.

'What-?' he began.

'Not bad, Harry,' laughed Mr Weasley. Either hand had a collar each of Fred and George held securely in it, jerking and straining as they pulled harder with each second longer that the Veela women danced on. 'Snapped out of that quite quickly, unlike these two – Bill, give me a hand. It takes quite a lot not to be allured entirely.'

'Er, yeah, sure,' said Bill slowly. He hurried over to his father's side, blinking much like Harry had. Grabbing Fred around the waist, he heaved him backwards, allowing Mr Weasley to do the same as he spoke quietly and quickly in George's ear. Faint fogginess began to clear in his eyes and he began to frown.

'Those women,' said Harry breathlessly, 'what are they? They can't be human.'

'They're not,' piped up Ginny awkwardly. She began to retell what Cassy had said earlier, trailing off as the music broke down and a rush of green burst onto the pitch and straight through the lines of Veela. Two sparkling green orbs shot around the stadium, bursting into streaks of colour and the two connected in an enormous arch.

Just like that, the spell of the Veela was broken and the Weasley boys found themselves rubbing their blurry eyes and peering gormless at the falling sparks. Ron let out a shout of excitement as the balls merged into a large shamrock in the sky and exploded into golden coins. They splattered on the ground and into the crowds. Hands grabbed at the air eagerly, almost forcing them to miss the emerging leprechauns.

Cassy watched in amusement while Ron stuffed his pocked to the brim with gold, only wondering for a second if she should tell him that it would vanish in a matter of minutes.

The leprechauns were quickly dismissed and the game was under-way, players flying in all directions and the crowd reaching a deafening pitch that dwarfed the screams at any school match. The game was quick. It was impossible to watch without Omnioculars, the bright lights glaring down on the pitch made it impossible to see anyone high in the sky, but what everyone quickly understood, and best of all, was that Ireland were decimating Bulgaria.

Spirits had never been higher. Ireland's fans roared and sang long into the distant, into their tents and most likely would do so far into the night; there was no one there who cared beyond the grumbling Bulgarian fans, whose victory had been snatched early in the game by the Irish Chasers. Ron, despite himself, had roared loudly when Viktor Krum had caught the Snitch for Bulgaria, earning more than a few odd looks from the other occupants of the top box. This was especially the case for Ludo Bagman, who found himself sandwiched between Fred and George not a second later.

Mr Weasley ushered everyone into the tents, counting them as they went in after losing several of them more than once in the mass of bodies. Nobody went to bed though. The boys were in and out of the girls' tent, talking loudly. Fred and George had hinted several times as to what they wanted to do with their winnings, changing their story each time and grinned when no one could keep up with their chatter. Mr Weasley looked troubled, but he kept his mouth shut, deciding it was better that he did not ask of their plans. It did not matter so much as long as their mother never found out they had been gambling, or it would be all their heads on the line, he had said to Bill over the boiling kettle.

Percy had ordered everyone from the room to sleep, but no one left and it was not until Ron sat on Ginny's legs and shocked her back into consciousness that Mr Weasley clicked his fingers and the boys were dispelled from the girls' tent. They could still hear them singing loudly though as they settled into bed.

Cassy supposed the boys must have been sent to bed rather strictly when the singing came to an abrupt end. She stared up at the bunk above her for a moment, waiting for it to restart. When it did not, she turned to the bed opposite.

'Are you asleep again, Ginny?' she asked, quietly playful.

'No and I was just resting my eyes,' said Ginny from the top bunk of the other bed. Her voice sounded muffled, as if she was lying with her face in the pillow.

'And that's why you made that noise, is it?' said Hermione from beneath her.

'You would too if you had that lump of a brother sit on you suddenly too,' she grumbled.

'I am sure I would feel empathy if I had a brother, but as an only child I would have quite liked one growing up,' said Hermione.

'They're not that great,' said Ginny, yawning. 'You can have one of mine. I have them going spare.'

Cassy pursed her lips and said, 'I am not sure I would want one. I grew up with Draco and that was enough for me, thank-you. Although, I have to commend his self-control today. He only just got out of his seat at the sight of the Veela, I thought you might lose one of your brothers at that moment, Ginny.'

Ginny scoffed and Cassy could imagine her rolling her eyes. 'I know, what a bunch of turds,' she said. She was quiet for a moment and the sheets above rustled. 'Harry came back around pretty quickly though didn't he? That was good, Dad said, so maybe... maybe he doesn't care about looks too much. That's nice, isn't it?'

Cassy remained silent and unmoving. Hermione rolled over to face the bunk above her and stared up at it as if she was looking at Ginny directly.

'You know, Ginny,' she said hesitantly, 'maybe you should try and be yourself around him a bit more. Show him who you are with us and maybe he'll notice you a bit more.'

Cassy twitched at the sudden conversation. She rolled onto her back too, not looking in either girl's direction.

'But how?' whined Ginny. 'I keep trying and it doesn't work. I just look like an idiot.'

Hermione paused for a moment and Cassy chipped in curtly. She said, 'Date some other people then.'

'What?' asked Ginny, sitting up.

'No, she's right,' piped up Hermione. 'If you learn to be yourself and build some confidence then he might start to take note. Get on with your life a little bit and don't focus on him.'

Ginny was quiet for a moment and Cassy listened carefully as she lay back down, pulling the cover up to her chin. Then, slowly, she said, 'You think that will really work?'

'Well, it can't make things too much worse, can it? You can hardly function when he talks to you,' laughed Hermione with good humour.

While Ginny did not laugh back, Cassy and Hermione could almost hear her brain mulling the idea over. She had been getting better. She laughed and joked when Harry was around, although she turned pink at the slightest bit of attention he gave her, and forbid that he focused on her solely or else all of her witty capabilities flew painfully out the window. Really, mentioned Cassy on more than one occasion to Hermione, Ginny's best characteristic was her steadfast temperament and her rage, neither of which were within a mile radius so long as Harry was about.

There was a shuffle that sounded as if Ginny was nodding.

They lay there in silence for a time. Cassy recalled the match, the merging voices of Ireland's official song ringing loudly through the roaring cheers and the way that the green and red players wove in and out, between and beneath one another. Slowly, the players were no longer Ireland and Bulgaria, but Slytherin and Gryffindor playing in that enormous stadium. House banners hung where the advertisements had, bright and bold, fluttering in the cooling summer breeze. The players shot by, ruffling them and earning a scream of applause from the crowd. Cassy was clapping to, for who she was unsure, but she beamed and turned to Hermione, who was whistling loudly, her fingers in her mouth. Yet past her was something that made Cassy's smile drop. She pulled at Hermione's sleeve and was shrugged off easily, so she grabbed at Neville, no words leaving her mouth as she tried to warm them, tell them that the Muggle man from the entrance was there, watching them fly high in horror.

Neville turned to her and spoke, the words making no sense, mingling with the growing screams of the man. No, she realised, that was not quite right. The screaming was high, hysterical, and then the man moved aside, revealing a woman in a light blue dress. She slipped to her knees.

'Mother?' asked Cassy, her voice ringing loudly against the growing screams. 'Why are you screaming?'

She reached out a hand and suddenly everything was dark. Startled, she breathed out sharply, laying still beneath the bunk. Rustling came from the beds across from her and Cassy sat up carefully, silently listening.

'What is that sound?' she asked, turning to Hermione and Ginny.

The screaming had not stopped when she awoke.

'I don't know,' said Hermione quickly. She had her summer coat thrown over her shoulders and was quickly lacing up her shoes.

Ginny clambered down the ladder and began to rummage through her own things hastily too, and without a thought Cassy began to do the same. The noises surrounding them had changed somehow. The loud talking and drunken songs had long since stopped and in their place was running and incomprehensible shouting. She had her coat and shoes on with her wand in hand when the tent door burst open.

Cassy and Hermione had almost sent him flying back onto the ground when they caught sight of Mr Weasley. Hesitantly, they lowered their wands and he nodded at them, caught somewhere between approval and thankfulness. His face was pale and his eyes darted rapidly around the small tent.

'Come on, girls,' he said. 'We need to get out of here now.'

They did not look at each other as Mr Weasley held open the tent flap and waved them out in a line; nor did they so much as glance at one another when their eyes struggled to take in the camp site around them. From the woodland to the far entrance people were running. They were running from a greater, darker shape that flashed and burnt whatever stood in front of it. Even from a distance, Cassy was certain she could see shadows spread across the floor, unmoving in the face of the light, solid as people clambered over them.

Through the sharp booms laughter sounded, deep and guttural. More voices followed after a bright flash of green light.

Cassy's feet halted. She stared, eyes wide and brows furrowed low. She knew that spell, she knew it and it was one that should never be used at a time like this, not during an event. All thoughts that the commotion was a drunken skirmish left her mind. Even had it been one, it was so far beyond that now that she could barely comprehend what would happen next. Then she saw it. As Mr Weasley's hand grabbed her shoulder tightly, Cassy could see the cloaked figures with their raised wands and their silver masks. Above them were bodies, floating high in the air, spinning and perhaps silent. Cassy hoped there were silent, because it was kinder than what was sure to happen next.

She was forced to look away as Mr Weasley steered her sharply through the crowd, pushing her into the boys who waited outside of their tent. George put out a hand to steady her, but his eyes were on the marching hooded figures as they drew ever closer.

'Get into the forest,' said Mr Weasley, looking each of the teens in the eye. 'Stay together whatever happens, all right? Don't leave for any reason and I will come and find you. We're going to help the Ministry sought this out.'

Cassy noted the urgency and desperateness in his voice and how it did not fit with the steady way he gripped his wand. Beyond him were the retreating backs of Bill, Charlie, and Percy, wands raised as they ran towards the cloaked figures. Mr Weasley shot after them, soon lost amongst the Ministry officials who were running in from every side.

Fred grabbed Ginny's hand and dragged her towards the forest quickly, while George followed up behind, quickly counting that all nine of them were present. Their wands lit quickly despite the law, illuminating oncoming faces and the deep roots of the ancient trees. People were gathered everywhere as far as the eye could see, clustered in small groups with their eyes darting suspiciously at all who passed, yet asking what was happening to anyone who would listen.

'We need to get farther away than this,' said Cassy firmly. 'They are heading this way and the cover of the trees will not be enough.'

'Dad told us to wait here though,' said Ron.

'Where can we go?' asked Dean, glancing behind himself.

'The West Gate. It's the emergency point,' said Cassy. 'Most of the officials will be there and it would be the most organised and defended area here. If we stay here they are going to find us and I do not want to chance myself against a Death Eater while in my nightwear.' She put a hand on her hip and ignored the sharp gasps. She turned towards their camp site in the North, then straight to the left, nodding slightly.

'The what?' asked Harry.

'Death Eaters,' repeated Ron with a pale face. '_His_ followers.'

'His?' muttered Harry slowly, allowing his eyes to drift back to the growing crowd of bodies.

'His?' questioned Dean unsure. When Ron nodded distantly, Dean bit his lip and gripped onto his wand a little tighter.

Before anyone agreed to her plan, Cassy began moving, picking her way through the protruding roots carefully, but quickly. The crying and shouting barely tapered off the deeper they walked, but increasingly it could not be understood. A gaggle of French witches spoke hastily amongst themselves, and not far beyond them were a family of Spaniards, all ready to attack the moment the group even looked upon them.

Distantly, Cassy cast her thoughts to Luna and Seamus. They had been farther back than them and it was hopeful to wish that the riot had not reached that far yet. Too hopeful, her brain reminded her as she staggered, gripping onto Neville.

'Watch it!' shouted Ron at the retreating back of a middle-aged wizard. 'Are you okay, Harry?'

Harry huffed and hauled himself to his feet. He stepped back quickly, just in time to avoid another sprinting wizard who burst through the thickening trees and threatened to flatten him again.

'Are you sure this is the safest way?' he asked, rubbing his dirtied hands together.

'Positive,' said Cassy as she reached to check the spot the witch had pushed on her back.

Spells were fired through the trees. Great flashes of light illuminated every available surface and cast deep, long shadows across the uneven ground. Yells continued to sound and a distant thumping of running feet sounded long after the spells had ceased.

Ginny bit her lip, her face ghostly white as she hurried towards the edge of the forest. George grabbed her tightly, locking his arms around her waist when she struggled. The muttering in her ear did little to calm her.

'Luna,' she said, twisting to Cassy. 'That's Luna's district.'

'Luna's a clever girl,' said Neville firmly from beside them. 'She's a Ravenclaw, remember? And so was her dad. There is no way they haven't heard of the riot and moved. I would bet they're all ready far away by now, much farther than us.'

Ginny looked at him warily for several long seconds, but nodded and relaxed in George's arms.

'You're right,' she said. 'Of course, you're right.'

George urged her on quickly. He and Fred had a shoulder each to steer her, ensuring she could not make a mad dash for the camp site as if it was something she had done before. Ron was on one side with his wand raised and Dean was on the other, speaking quietly to Ginny, most likely furthering everything Neville had said the best he could without knowing Luna.

'There,' said Harry suddenly, making Cassy spin quickly to follow his gaze.

She frowned. 'Harry, that is just Draco.'

'Yeah, and where are his parents?'

'Harry,' warned Cassy.

'Don't argue now – oh!' squeaked Hermione. She fell backwards, hitting her back roughly against a tree and Neville was instantly by her side, pulling the clawing hands away from her arms and heaving the crying woman backwards and carefully as he could.

She staggered and ran a thin hand through her wild hair. Tears streaked down her blotchy face and she babbled shortly before motioning with her hands. One hand levelled with her hip.

'Boy,' she said thickly. Then, her hand pulled at her blonde hair and she said again, 'Boy.'

'No,' said Hermione, nursing her bruised shoulders. 'No, sorry.'

The woman let out a wail, understanding enough English to know they had not seen the small child.

'It's okay,' she said. Her hands hesitantly reaching for the older woman.

'I'm sure he's fine,' said Harry, slowly beginning to push Hermione away from the hysterical woman.

The woman shook her head and wailed louder.

'C'mon, guys,' said Ron quickly, reappearing at their side.

'They are gone all ready,' muttered Neville over the woman.

'I know,' said Cassy. She nodded in the direction that the other half of their group had vanished and silently urged Harry and Hermione to leave the woman be.

'Damn it,' cursed Ron. 'I was literally just with them when I heard her and looked back.' He jerked his head at the woman. Eyes flitting in the darkness, he tried to gage were his siblings had run to.

'Look,' said Harry pointing. 'They might know where he is.'

Several people emerged in the distance and the woman began nodding feverishly, scrambling a quick thank-you in French before hurrying on her way at an impressive speed.

'I hope she finds her son,' said Neville quietly.

'Well, let's hope she's not a Mudblood then,' came a voice from behind them.

Everyone reeled around sneering. Draco stood with his arms folded across his chest, leaning casually back on a tree. He smiled at them.

'Not the best time to be with your rejects, Cassy,' he said pointedly, although he still smiled and peered around as if the whole event was a lovely festival rather than a murder scene.

'We will be just fine, thank-you,' she said curtly.

Draco shrugged, pushing his shirt up just enough that Cassy could see his wand securely wedged in his pocket. She inwardly frowned. He was not even concerned enough to be armed, but then again, she thought, he did not really need to be. Any Death Eater would recognise Lucius' son. They all ran in the same circles after all.

'I am just saying that having Blood-Traitors, a Mudblood, and Harry Bloody Potter with you isn't the best idea. You don't think they won't be able to tell what _she_ is, do you?'

'Hermione is as much of a witch as anybody else,' snarled Harry.

Draco let out a choked laugh, waving his hands in the air in mock surrender. He chuckled, 'Okay, sure, whatever.'

Ron lurched forward, his fist drawn back as if about to punch him, but he stopped at the last second and let Draco stumble backwards in surprise.

'Watch it, Weasley,' he growled.

'Or what, Draco? Mummy and Daddy aren't here to save you. I bet they're out there with those lot, aren't they? Imagine if they get caught, who will rescue you then?' snarled Ron in a low, gruff voice that held more sting than anything Cassy had heard him use before.

Harry sneered again and took hold of Hermione's arm, tugging her away from him and Neville and Ron followed closely behind. Just as Cassy took a step, Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her back around to face him.

'The masses are still heading this way. The West Gate is packed with people, being there will be no good. When they do reach there, it will be chaos. You should make yourself scarce. They will come straight for you if you stay with those four,' he muttered in her ear seriously.

Cassy pulled back a fraction and looked him in the eye.

'Thank-you,' she said earnestly, 'but you know I will not.'

'This isn't a game, Cassy,' he growled.

'I'm not playing,' she bit back. Tugging free from his grip, she sprinted through the darkness, never once looking back at her cousin. She slowed to a quick walk when she reached her friends, who had not gone too far ahead.

'Where did you go?' asked Hermione. 'We were about to go back and get you.'

'Just talking, it is fine,' said Cassy dismissively.

The continued to walk west for a time. Around them, the forest grew thicker and a peculiar silence fell, no wary cries, or rustling leaves above. Silence. Harry drew to a stop, peering around contently.

'This wouldn't be a bad place to stop,' he suggested. 'I know you said about getting to the West Gate, but it'll probably be really hectic and at least here we can definitely stay together. We will hear anyone coming way before they see us.'

Cassy pursed her lips and thought of what Draco had said. She found herself nodding, regardless of what Alphard had instructed her to do.

'Yes,' she said. 'All right.'

They sat on the dry, moss covered ground, quiet for a moment. Cassy and Hermione had their wands lit, illuminating just enough to see some ten feet in all directions. The area was denser than any part they had trekked through and it was likely the heart of the forest, which had meant they had gone too far South-West at one point. Cassy sighed to herself, knowing she should have been checking the exact direction they travelled in.

Neville pulled at the moss beneath him, unearthing it with a low crunch. He glanced at Cassy and then back down at the moss. It sprinkled over Ron's tiny model of Viktor Krum, who shook himself clean before continuing to march across the tree root. She looked back at him, but he pretended not to notice as he ripped the earth apart slowly.

'How did you know they were Death Eaters?' he asked suddenly, surprising Harry and Hermione.

'Their masks,' said Cassy.

He nodded and she knew it was not what he wanted her to say. She could have explained that he knew it because she was a curious child that enjoyed pushing boundaries, which had often lead to her irritating Lucius. Asking again and again about the Dark Lord and his followers, Lucius was forced to tread a fine line between telling her enough to keep her satisfied and not telling her so much that Narcissa or Alphard would inevitably peer down at him with identical looks of disapproval when they later heard. He maintained that he was under the Imperious Curse and that some details were blurred, but Cassy had always been able to imagine the sharp silver masks he had so vividly described to her one evening as he patience ran thin. Not that it had the desired effect. She had looked more pleased with herself than frightened at the end of the story.

Instead, she waved her wand around her, signalling the end of that conversation.

'You're taking all the light,' complained Neville, still ripping apart the moss.

'Are you a wizard?' asked Cassy, dully.

Neville, Harry and Ron began rummaging for their wands. Neville's lit brightly at the exact moment Harry let out a sharp hiss.

'What is it?' asked Hermione.

'My wand,' he groaned. 'I've lost it.

'What? When?' demanded Hermione. She quickly rose to her feet and shone her wand around at the ground surrounding him.

'I don't know, it could have been anywhere. I put it in my pocket ages ago,' he said.

'That means it could be - ' Neville suddenly fell silent and the others did the same. His head twisted to his left, Cassy remained perfectly still, Hermione and Ron both pointed their wands, and Harry got to his feet. They waited in silence.

'Hello?' called Harry loudly. 'Is someone there?'

There was a slight shuffling and the sharp crack of a stick.

Cassy stood with a graceful and silent precision. She tilted her head around the tree at the same time Harry did the other side. A dark figure stood some ten foot away, gazing intently at the sky between a bare section of interlocking branches. His arm raised and so did Cassy's. She never struck.

Instead, the man pointed his wand high into the sky. His voice, scraping through the silence thickly, said, 'Morsmordre!'

A green beam shot into the sky, twisting and turning in the cloudless sky. It grew and in less than a second Cassy understood. Thick and sharp despite the hazy edges, a giant skull sat against the black sky, obscuring the stars and tainting their light with its blazing colour.

Cassy ripped around the tree, running straight for the caster. A scream echoed behind her of what may have been words, but she was too focused on the man's retreating back to listen. Her hand reached out and then he was gone. Her fingers fell short. Skidding to a halt, she let out a low growl.

'He apparated,' she said, seething.

'Are you mad?' roared Hermione. She tugged at Cassy's arm, dragging her at a run back to Harry and Neville.

'Get down!' yelled Harry and threw his arms around everyone, pushing them roughly on the spongy ground.

The earthy smell infiltrated their noses for only the briefest of seconds. No one dared to breathe while streaks of red crackled above them, ricocheting from the dark trees deeper into the forest. A chorus of voices rang, calling different spells, until they mingled with firmer, more desperate calls.

'Stop – that's my son. Stop!' one shouted.

'Lower your wand, boy!'

The shots stopped. Wands were lowered the four raised their heads just slightly. Arthur Weasley stood beside Crouch, looking shaken. He hurried over as they began to pick themselves off the ground.

'Are you all right?' he asked breathlessly.

'Move, Arthur,' demanded a chilled voice.

'Do not waste valuable time here, Barty,' said an even colder one.

Looking past the oncoming Barty Crouch, Cassy's eyes lit up. Alphard stood tall and severe, his face tightened glacially. Next to him was a short, pink-haired woman, standing almost shoulder to shoulder.

Crouch ignored him. Less than an arm's length away, he looked down at them, piercing and judging. Neville shifted uncomfortably.

'Who was it then?' he growled.

'Pardon?' asked Hermione. Her voice had a hint of incredulousness.

'The Dark Mark,' he snapped. 'Which one of you was it?' He looked between them carefully, then his eyes finally settled on Cassy, who could not hold back her sneer. 'Was it you?'

'Don't be absurd,' hissed Alphard.

'Really, now, they're just children,' said Arthur, stepping closer to the four.

'They would never be able to do something like this,' said a woman near the back.

'Really?' said Crouch. 'Everyone starts somewhere, don't they?'

'Where did it come from? Did you see anything at all?' said Mr Weasley quickly.

'Behind us,' said Ron.

'There was a man, he said an incantation, but I don't know - 'began Hermione hurriedly.

''Oh, did he?' said Crouch haughtily.

'Quiet Crouch,' interjected Alphard sharply. 'Go one with your story.'

Ignoring Crouch's bulging eyes, which only got wider as he whipped around to Alphard, Hermione continued and walked around behind them, standing in exactly the spot the man had. Although she did not remember the spell, she spoke of what happened next and how the man had run. Thankfully, she had left out the part of Cassy running after him. Neither Crouch nor Alphard would take that well, although the latter was considerably more frightening.

The Ministry wizards hummed and muttered to each other. The pink-haired woman had taken a few steps forward, her wand drawn as she scanned the area. She then turned back to Alphard. Although Cassy could not hear their exchange, she frowned when the woman indicated to the ground behind him. Alphard had his wand in his left hand. He was right-handed.

'Our stunners did some good,' rang the voice of Amos Diggory. 'I don't know what's going on, but wait until you have a look at this.'

Between the cries of interest and Diggory's hesitant rustling, Cassy made her way over to Alphard. She hovered in front of him, inspecting his right arm thoroughly, pulling at the sleeve gently.

'Stop it,' he mumbled. 'Are you all right, Cassy?'

'I am fine. What happened?' she uttered back and frowned at his arm.

'Someone is about to get into a lot of trouble for causing a very big mess. I know you know why,' he said.

They both looked back in time to see Diggory stepping out of the dark with a small, limp figure in his arms.

'Is that... is that a house-elf?' hissed the woman beside them.

'No, this is...' said Crouch stiffly. He said nothing more. Fixated, his eyes scanned the little elf, Winky, from head to toe; his face grew whiter with every sweep.

'There is nothing else back there,' said Diggory, while Crouch strode back the way he had come.

Cassy took a second to reappraise Alphard's arm. She asked, 'What kind of spell was it?'

Alphard looked down at her without inclining his head. He then looked back at Crouch.

'Surely it can't be the elf,' said Mr Weasley. 'She would need a wand.'

'She had one,' said Diggory. He jerked his hand and waved the wand he had collected.

Less than a second after Crouch re-emerged, there was a loud pop and Bagman appeared. He looked around frantically.

'Are you all right?' demanded Cassy hushed. She pursed her lips at Alphard and he did the same back.

'I got grazed by a particularly nasty spell a while back. I shall expect to be in St. Mungo's for a night or two.'

Cassy frowned deeply. 'What kind of spell?'

Alphard gave her an intensely pointed look and said, '_Pay attention_.'

Cassy almost sneered before she heard Harry exclaim loudly. Winky was conscious and shaking, although Cassy had been listening for most of that part, and Harry was reaching for the wand Mr Diggory was flailing about. His hands soon shot up when Mr Diggory turned to him, demanding to hear his confession.

'I didn't drop it anywhere near here, I haven't had it since before talking to Malfoy, I don't think,' said Harry quickly.

'You have seen Draco?' whispered Alphard.

'Yes. He seemed to have a cheerful perspective on tonight.'

Alphard sighed and the pink-haired woman looked at the two curiously.

'I did not be doing the magic, Sir, I swear it! I just picking it up, I know not how to make the mark, Sir!' cried the tiny elf. She sobbed and shook, turning to Crouch. He stared back down with uncompromising severity.

'It couldn't have been her,' said Hermione forcefully.

'A man cast it. The voice was deep and I could see him between the trees,' said Cassy loudly.

All attention snapped to her.

'You _saw_ the caster?' repeated Mr Diggory in disbelief. 'Why didn't you say anything earlier?'

'Because I did not see his face and I was waiting for a time when things calmed so I could speak easily,' she said calmly, yet firmly.

'We'll talk about that later. Right now we need to know if that is the wand used,' said Mr Weasley.

Mr Diggory nodded and sharply utter 'Prior Incantato'. A familiar skull burst forth with its serpent-headed tongue protruding, exactly matching that in the sky above. He flicked the wand and it vanished.

'We'll be needing a word with you too,' said Mr Diggory, nodding his head at Cassy. He then leant over very closely to Winky's face. She began crying harder, making ugly bubbling sounds as she struggled to breathe.

'I am afraid you may have to spend the night with the Weasleys, if Molly and Arthur would be so kind as to have you. I cannot collect you anytime sooner,' said Alphard stiffly. Sweat had begun to form on his brow. His usually pale face had turned faintly ashen and he heaved uneven breaths that Cassy had failed to notice before in the darkness.

'Alphard,' said Cassy sharply. She looked immediately to the pink-haired woman, who slung her arm around Alphard's back and steadied him before he even had a chance to stumble. There was a commotion behind her that sounded as if an argument was sure to break out. With no one looking, Alphard allowed himself to be pushed backwards against a trunk for support and for his wand to be plucked from his hand gratefully. His free hand immediately gripped his right.

'We need to get you out of here,' said the woman, her eyes flicking wildly at the others with them.

A rustled sounded behind them and Neville skidded beside Cassy. He flailed slightly, asking, 'Are – are you all right, Mr Black? Are you hurt?'

Cassy did not know when Neville had noticed, but she was thankful he had when he dashed away again, returning with a woman wearing a long nightdress in tow.

'Oh, dear,' she muttered.

'It is fine,' said Alphard sternly. 'I have just been on my feet too long. A trip to St. Mungo's would not go amiss, however.'

Cassy looked at the witch's face, attempting to gage her thoughts. Her face remained irritatingly passive.

'Why are you even here?' asked Cassy. She was somewhat pleased that Alphard was not unwell enough to shoot her a withered glare.

'My nieces and nephew were in an area under attack,' was all he said before the medi-witch and the pink-haired woman pushed him away.

Cassy watched with a deep frown as he vanished behind the trees.

* * *

**Yay. This chapter is a little longer than I expected, especially as I made an effort to try and skip over unneeded information. I got it up a few days earlier too, this is my break from revision editing. All the chapters are now fully planned, I just have to write them.**

**Guess who I just introduced for a very good reason that won't immediately become apparent! I have been waiting for this for a while and thought it was a quicker way to do it and you will be seeing a bit more of this pink-haired witch through this year.**

**This chapter is basically full of people's important feelings – Ginny's, Draco's, Alphard's and his need to make sure his family is okay. I kind of felt that he would be family orientated, seeing as he gave Sirius a lot of money to live off and what not when he wasn't supposed to. I won't say too much more about any of that though.**

**Thanks!**


	6. St Mungo's

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter VI: St. Mungo's**

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was not a place that Cassy commonly visited. She had been a healthy child herself, despite having a few sprained or broken bones from misadventures which were normally always healed by someone on her street or someone else the family knew. It was not a place she ever intended to visit commonly either, if at all.

She had politely declined the Weasleys' offers to accompany her. Although Mrs Weasley tried to force herself along, Cassy had silently slipped from the house and summoned the Knight Bus at the end of the long drive by the time Mrs Weasley had even found her coat.

They had not needed her troubles in the house. Mr Weasley was in and out of the office constantly that morning to sort out rumours that the Daily Prophet had started about bodies being removed from the woods. Although Mr Weasley had reiterated that no one had been hurt, Cassy found it difficult to believe that there was no foundation at all. After all, curses had been flying everywhere, people trampled one another in blind panic and the screams had rung all night. Something, she was certain, had happened.

Something had occurred, of course. Something that involved the followers of the Dark Lord and Cassy touched her fingers together in a steeple and pressed them against her lips the moment she had been forced into a seat at the dining table in the early hours of the morning. Ignoring the hot chocolate that was placed in front of her, she mulled over everything carefully and slowly, drinking when Mrs Weasley doubled back around and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, most likely assuming it was her worry over Alphard. She supposed some of it was, but that did not change the fact that the followers of a supposed defeated enemy had reappeared suddenly.

Across from her, she had seen Harry's mind whirling too. He asked after Hedwig, who had not returned and when Mrs Weasley told him so, he ushered Cassy, Hermione, Neville and Ginny from the table and told them again of his fears and of the prophecy that he had stumbled in on during his Divination exam. They had all stared in shock before Hermione snorted loudly and Cassy growled at her. The two had a short spat before Harry snapped at them.

'The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was,' she mouthed.

The Knight Bus bumbled over the winding country road as it whirled its way to London.

He should have told her. He should have told her the day that Professor Trelawney had made such a statement. It then occurred to her, as she had stared intensely at the side of Harry's head, while he had fended off Neville's worries, that perhaps that was why Harry changed his mind and had gone to investigate her concerns about Sirius. The prophecy made the day before probably played on his mind until he was so restless that his feet moved by themselves and he found himself at the forest's edge, waiting for something spectacular.

Cassy had huffed at him and resisted the urge to pinch him. Hermione's scepticism had got to him at last and it took discovering his lost Godfather's innocent for him to truly believe in what she had said. Yet he had still only told them now he though Voldemort to be returning.

Sighing again with enough force to attract the attention of the attendant, Cassy rubbed at her temples irritably. She had never been more thankful when the bus drew to a halt outside of an old red-brick building with the faded sign 'Purge and Dowse, Ltd' plastered across the front. The bus shot off the moment both her feet touched the pavement and she wasted no time stepping through the large rectangular window.

Everything morphed around her. Bright white lights shone down on her, glaringly clean floors, tiled walls and the distinct smell of disinfection greeted her.

'Are you all right, dear,' said the receptionist, Ms Richards, when Cassy peered over the tall desk at her. Her brown-hair was scraped away from her plump face into a neat bun; she had small brown eyes and small lips covered in shiny pink gloss that was too bright for her ageing face.

'Yes, I am looking for Alphard Black's room,' she said. 'He was brought in last night.'

Ms Richards frowned slightly and began flicking through the piles of paper on her desk. She pushed her glasses higher onto her nose.

'Are you family,' she asked.

'Yes, his great-niece.'

Ms Richards then looked up, straining out of her chair slightly to see the people behind Cassy. Her eyebrows dipped again. She asked, 'Are you here by yourself?'

Cassy nodded and got the terrible feeling that she was not going to be allowed to see him. Working quickly, her eyebrows folded down and turned up at the inner-edges expertly.

'He is my guardian, you see, It is only us and...'

'Oh, that's fine, Sweetheart. I was just wondering, I'll find his room now and check if he's available for visitors... floor four, I think...' stumbled Ms Richards, dropping back into her chair. She flicked through the papers speedily, scanning each name until her polished finger nail paused and tapped at the black scrawling ink. 'Oh, yes, floor five. There should be someone up there on the right of the stairs that will be able to tell you if you can see him, but I should think it should be fine, Sweetheart.'

Cassy thanked the kind woman and followed her directions over to the stairs.

The main ward of the fourth floor was identical of all below it. It was clean, white, and bustling with staff, only half of whom appeared to really want to be there. Lines of wooden chairs were back against the walls and many families, more than Cassy had expected, were occupying them. The events of yesterday had clearly had a greater impact than Mr Weasley would like them to have thought.

Around the corner was a desk with a stern looking man behind it. He directed Cassy down and to the left where Alphard had apparently been given a private room. Although she knew that would please her uncle greatly, she frowned the moment she turned from the receptionist. What, she wondered, would warrant a private room?

The door was open when she arrived and Alphard was slow to look to her. For a moment, he continued to read the newspaper, then in a casual tone asked, 'Who had brought this curse upon me one again? I was quite enjoying being able to read my paper in peace.'

'No one but myself,' said Cassy, smiling.

'You came all the way here by yourself?' he asked, peering at her from the corner of his eyes.

'I did not wish to disturb the Weasley family. They are doing quite enough by having me there, let alone escorting me places I can easily get to myself,' she said.

She pulled up a chair from the corner of the little room and sat close to his bedside.

'Good,' he said. 'Best you not bother them when Arthur will have so much to sort.' He tapped the front of the paper. 'Not a good statement to be out. It may get him into quite a bit of trouble, but anyone with any sense knows not to believe what Skeeter writes. She is a blood-hound with a nose for opportunity and a talent for deceit.'

'He left for the office earlier this morning for it, actually. Alphard, whatever is wrong with your arm?'

Black rings circled his skin. Thick and evenly spaced, they began from an inch under his elbow, where Cassy could also see the warped skin of what had been a deep gash. The rings continued up beneath his shirt sleeves, although it was impossible to tell for how long.

'It is just a side effect of the curse. How are you, you look tired,' he said.

'I hardly slept,' she admitted. 'I was a bit too wound up after last night to really want to.'

He nodded and folded the paper onto his lap. A long drink of water was sipped from the little glass tumbler, which he then held in his hand.

'What happened then, from your side,' asked Cassy.

'Well, word of the chaos spread wildly through to anyone with any connections to the Ministry. I woke up to the buzzing of the Fire Call and by the time I had got downstairs to answer it, Eden was knocking on my door like thunder.'

'Oh, that's right. Ms Fairle's grandson, the architect that she wants me to marry was at the match,' mumbled Cassy.

'Yes and she was quite eager for me to find out exactly what was going on. She demanded I go to the Ministry at once, although I do not expect she thought I would leave her in my living room alone as I apparated to the grounds,' he said calmly.

'Should you really have left her in the house alone? I think a fair few things be missing when you return,' said Cassy flatly and Alphard rolled his eyes. 'We both know she intends to be _Mrs Black_.'

'Enough of that, thank-you,' reprimanded Alphard quickly. 'Once I arrived I saw quite a few people I recognised and I was called out to help with the organisation when low and behold I find three of the Weasley children and not the other more danger prone half of the group.'

'Hermione got assaulted by a foreign woman who had lost her son and we lost them,' said Cassy defensively.

'None the less, I went back to go and see if I could find any sign of you and in the way I found some young Aurors and the others disbanding the last of the hooded figures in a duel.'

'Where you got injured.'

'Yes. Some of them were taken out straight away, far too new to be in a battle against Death Eaters,' he said with a frown. 'At any rate, I ran into Tonks, the pink-haired woman from yesterday, and we managed to move two others to the side. Others began appearing at this time and took them away, but in the haze of it all I did get grazed.' He took another long sip from the glass. 'From then I merely followed Arthur and Barty and you know the rest,' he said.

'What happened to Winky?' asked Cassy curiously.

'The elf? Well, she would be disciplined severely I suppose. I don't know how exactly she was involved, but I doubt she cast it. You said it was a man?'

'Yes, I -' Cassy suddenly fell silent and her head twisted to the door behind her the footsteps that had rung loudly down the corridor suddenly stopped. In the doorway stood Narcissa, her hair tied neatly and large glittering earrings hung beautifully to detract from the darkened skin around her eyes. She had not slept much that night, it seemed, although the same could not be said for Draco, who looked very refreshed.

'Narcissa, good-morning,' said Alphard warmly.

'Uncle Alphard,' she said in kind. 'How are you feeling? Have they run any tests?'

Stepping into the room swiftly, Narcissa placed a paper bag on the foot of Alphard's bed. She rummaged through it, pulling out a flask of coffee, the scent wafting through the room the moment the lid was removed. Alphard breathed the scent in deeply.

'Thank-you, Cissy. The drinks here are awful. As for myself, I am feeling fine, but they want to run more tests. I am here for an indefinite amount of time, it seems.'

'Then Cassy will stay with us,' said Narcissa.

'That is not necessary. Much of her things are all ready at the Weasley family home,' he declared.

Narcissa paused and looked at him squarely. 'The _Weasleys_? No, she shall come home with us.'

'She will stay where she is for the summer,' reiterated Alphard. His voice took on a sharp edge that Cassy had never heard him take with Narcissa before and apparently neither had she, for she stopped once again with wide eyes.

In truth, Cassy was not sure what had just happened, or what was happening. If asked, she would gladly agree to stay with her cousins. It was easier on the Weasley family and she could visit Alphard whenever she pleased without having to worry that she was disrupting Mrs Weasley's daily plans. Instead, Alphard rejected the idea so flatly that she dared not question it.

'Fine,' snapped Narcissa. 'You two, out. I want to speak to Alphard alone.'

'Why?' asked Draco. His eyes narrowed.

'Now,' said Narcissa lowly.

Cassy and Draco hurried from the room. The door shut behind them with a lock click. For a time, they watched it before turning to each other with identical looks of wary surprise.

'I don't want to be him right now,' said Draco.

'With the way Alphard was talking, I would not favour being her right now either,' said Cassy, equally as quiet.

'Now what?' asked Draco as they pair deposited themselves in chairs farther down the corridor.

Cassy shook her head and settled for watching the other patients and their families come and go. She had become particularly engrossed in the argument of a young family when Draco startled her by flicking her cheek.

'Yes?' she said, blinking.

'You did not hear a word I just said, did you?' he asked flatly.

'Not a single word,' she agreed.

He sighed and said, 'I was saying that it was a shame that this had to happen before school. Everyone is going to be so jumpy. I just hope it isn't cancelled.'

'What are you talking about?' questioned Cassy. She frowned as Draco's eyebrows shot into his hairline and a wide grin broke out onto his pale face, lighting his cheeks with excitement.

'Oh, no,' he gasped. 'I know Alphard said he wasn't going to tell you, but I didn't think actually meant it! Oh, this is great. How do you not know?'

'Not know what?' said Cassy, irritably.

Draco shook his head and sniggered. He said he could not possibly tell her. Alphard was injured and it would be rude to go against his wished. He burst into laughter again when Cassy's expression flattened completely and the two were beginning to get conflicted looks from the other residents of the waiting room.

'Tell me,' she demanded.

'No,' he said.

'Draco.'

'No.'

'Hey,' said a voice from above them.

For a moment, Cassy expected it to be a healer having come over to reprimand them for the noise, but what she looked up to see was far from it. In ripped jeans and a chequered shirt, with hair a bright bubble-gum pink stood the woman from the previous night. She had a pale face, not unlike Cassy's in shape either, with large dark eyes. She was short, thin and pretty, although Cassy was rather too affronted by her hair to make much of a judgement.

'Are you two waiting for Alphard Black? His room is down here, right?' she asked, flicking a finger down the hall.

'Yes, but he is having a private conversation right now,' said Cassy. 'Who might you be? I recognise you from yesterday, you are an Auror.'

'Tonks. Pleased to meet you,' said the woman brightly.

Cassy frowned inwardly. She all ready knew her surname, Alphard had said it earlier.

'I am Cassiopeia Black, and this is my cousin, Draco Malfoy. You are younger than I thought Aurors to be,' said Cassy politely.

Draco nodded at the woman, although his face held the slightest sneer and his eyes were glued to her hair.

'Well, I'm a bit cleverer than people give me credit for,' she said with a smirk. She looked across at the closed door. 'I was hoping to get a chance to chat with him and see how he is, but if he's busy then I'll come back later today. Can you let him know?'

'Of course,' said Cassy.

'Great. I might see you again sometime.' Tonks waved at them as she weaved down the corridor once more, almost knocking over an elderly woman when she turned. She vanished from view and neither said anything for a time.

'Who was that?' asked Draco slowly.

'Auror Tonks, it would seem,' said Cassy in a simple tone, as if discussing the weather.

'She almost took out that old woman.'

'Yes, I noticed.'

'...I thought Aurors were supposed to be highly skilled and face impossible tests to even qualify, let alone pass.'

'So did I, but she come out unscathed last night and Alphard spoke well of her skill,' defended Cassy.

Draco still looked doubtful, but said no more. He fiddled with his sleeve buttons for a time and then began picking fluff from his tailored black trousers.

'The Tri-Wizard Tournament is coming to Hogwarts this year,' he announced casually.

'_What_?' demanded Cassy. Her head swung to him so quickly it may have cracked.

'I know!' he exclaimed excitedly. 'Think of all the challenges and the prize. You get eternal glory and people have died – but eternal glory-'

'I need to buy a dress!' said Cassy in horror over his ramblings.

'What?' he said flatly.

'There is hardly any time, where will I get one now? I do not own anything nice enough for the Yule Ball,' fretted Cassy. She looked at Draco in horror and he stared back incredulously.

'Priorities, Cassy. _Eternal glory!_'

* * *

Forty minutes later, Cassy and Draco were still sat in the corridor. They had wandered around and through most of the wards until they found the colourful map of the building mounted on one of the walls. The cafeteria was as bland as the rest of the building. The food smelt as good as it looked, with unrecognisable substances dished onto the metal trays in front, lumpy and dull. There was a silent agreement between the two to get packet sandwiches.

Somewhere on the walk back between the cafeteria and Alphard's ward, their shared drink had been misplaced. Neither of them could remember having it and they bickered to and fro about who should go back and get it, but in the end they both sat down in their seats without ever making a move to. The sandwiches were dry and tasteless. Draco worked on pulling out half of his filling before even attempting to eat it.

'If you dislike tomato then you should have picked a different one,' said Cassy.

'I like everything else in it,' he muttered, inspecting the inside one last time before taking a bite.

Cassy shook her head. The door down the hall was still shut and Cassy could not help but imagine what Alphard and Narcissa could possibly be discussing still, if they were even discussing anything. The way they had left it she thought one might have ripped the other apart – verbally, at least, it took a lot to get either to raise their wand, but the tension had been enormous.

'I wish I had gone to Durmstrang,' said Draco suddenly.

'Why?' asked Cassy.

'Because Hogwarts has gone really downhill and Durmstrang is one of the best magic schools in Europe.'

'Hogwarts still is too,' she said simply, eating her sandwich slowly.

'Yeah, but what they teach is better, isn't it? It's more... liberal,' he said.

'Dark, you mean.'

'Dark is a perception,' he snorted.

Cassy rolled her eyes. 'As I am aware.'

'Besides, Viktor Krum goes there and he's the best Seeker in the world. I bet Durmstrang never had any 'no first year' rules, or stupid biased referees, or anyone that would bend the rules for Potter,' he spat.

'Really?' said Cassy, rolling her eyes towards her cousin. 'You are still bitter he made the team in first year? Or is it now because he has proven he is a better flier than you?'

'He is not,' snapped Draco. 'It's that bloody Bludger's fault. What even was with that anyway?'

A wonderful image struck Cassy. It was Draco's mortified face when he found out his own house-elf had lost him the game, and better yet, his father that had almost killed her last year by introducing a cursed diary to an eleven-year-old girl. She smiled slightly and then shook her head.

'You sound fond of Krum,' she commented.

'He's the best Seeker in the world at only seventeen. He might even come to the school this year to compete. If I don't get chosen for Hogwarts, I want him to win,' said Draco, sounding very much like Ron.

'Are you really going to put your name in the Cup? You have barely turned fourteen,' said Cassy, frowning.

'Age doesn't reflect talent.' Draco frowned back at her. 'Besides, why not? It's not like they'll let anyone die. Dumbledore would be in serious trouble if anything happened.'

'I would like one year where I don't have to worry someone will die,' she sighed.

'Oh,' said Draco, nodding his head. He put down his sandwich. 'That's right – Sirius, I kind of forgot about him. He's not been in the news for ages. It all just kind of stopped, didn't it? I mean it's good, because you and Alphard will be left alone, but I wonder what happened.'

'Perhaps they gave up,' said Cassy. 'After a year of unsuccessfully hunting a man who not only broke out of an unbreakable prison, but also got into Hogwarts undetected twice is not a man to be caught easily.'

'That's true,' said Draco enthusiastically. 'I wonder how he did it though. It would be amazing to find out, wouldn't it?'

Cassy nodded along, although she had long since known the answer. She wondered if Sirius would reply soon to Harry. It would surely ease his worry to hear back from him, even if it was just to say his dreams and scar pains were abnormal. Harry worried often about Sirius. He said he was the only family he had and Cassy always winced slightly at that. He trusted a man he had spoken to for half an hour over those he had known his entire life and it made her resent the Dursley's a little bit more every time he showed it.

'I would rather not have to worry about you anyway,' she finally said.

Draco's nose crinkled. 'I don't want you to worry. Imagine what the Slytherin's would say.'

Cassy pushed on his shoulder and said, 'Curse what they say. You are family. Even they have to respect that and you will always be family until otherwise decided.'

'Oh?' Draco's eyebrows rose.

'Besides, I will have to worry about him enough without you getting in the way too.' She nodded to the door.

'He'll be fine. He's stubborn, but if something was seriously wrong they would have told us, right?' he reassured.

Cassy sighed and nodded. Just then, the door burst open and Narcissa swept out, striding down the corridor without a word to either of them. Draco ran to catch up with her with a shout, leaving Cassy alone on the row of chairs. Slowly, she stood, dropping both her and Draco's rubbish into a nearby bin before wandering back into Alphard's room.

He sat his forefinger and thumb stretched over his temples, his head ducked.

'Alphard,' said Cassy slowly, 'what was all that?'

* * *

**Not a long chapter, but one that moves the plot and had some brother-sister moments between Cassy and Draco that I do enjoy writing. They bicker a lot, but they care as much as two fourteen-year-olds who are not going to show it do! I hope Draco is still in character. He is only really shown when either being nasty or stressed. I don't really have a relaxed and happy personality to reference, so I chose to have him like this. I hope people enjoy it.**

**So, the Triwizard Tournament is finally revealed to her! Of course, she cares less about the tournament and more about the ball, not wanting to compete herself. After having three years like they have, I can't easily imagine anyone voluntarily entering another stressful year, given the choice, so I chose not to have her want to compete like most. **

**What exactly happened between Narcissa and Alphard will be revealed at another time, but I assure you it warrants a chapter.**

**Thanks!**


	7. What a year to be

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter VII: What a year to be**

The beaten track back up the Weasley's house was long, longer than normal with the long shadows of the narrow trees stretching far across the dirt road in the light of the setting sun. A faint clinking sounded from the shed at the side where it was certain that Mr Weasley was tinkering with a muggle devise of sorts. A faint bell rang on the door as Cassy pushed it open. Silence greeted her and the room was almost empty, with the exception of Neville, who had his head tilting back and a bloody cloth smothering his nose. His eyes slid over to her and he greeted her nasally.

'What happened here then?' she asked, placing her back down on the table.

'Quibbidge,' he said.

Cassy laughed slightly, 'Since when did you play Quidditch?'

He look the cloth off his nose and Ron exited from the kitchen with a tea-towel wrapped around large chunks of ice he had scraped from the freezer.

'Trust him to get a Bludger to the face in the first five minutes of a match, ay,' said Ron as he handed Neville the towel.

'I told you it was a bad idea and you said it would be fun. I should just have listened to my instinct,' moaned Neville.

Cassy thought he was in good humour considering the size of the lump that was beginning to swell beneath his left eye. He smiled warily at Ron, who had batted the idea that anyone could dislike Quidditch away as quickly as he dismissed his homework.

'You'll get the hang of it,' he said. 'Not everyone is a natural, but you just need to get back out there. It can't go as badly as your first flying lesson.'

Hurtling twenty-feet to the ground may have coloured Neville's perception of flying, it had if the small grimace on his face was any indication, and the prospect of repeating that incident had Neville shaking the bloody rag at Ron with his free hand, shrugging.

'I should probably sit the rest of it out,' he said with false remorse. 'My nose is still a bit bloody and I wouldn't be able to concentrate with it bleeding.'

Ron looked doubtful, most likely having been on his broom with his brothers with various scrapes before, but he relented and clapped Neville on the back.

'All right, just come down to the pitch if you want to play in a bit, we'll make room. You want to try, Cassy?' he asked expectantly.

'Not on your life,' she said.

'I'm starting to think you two are a bit weird,' he said as he left.

'Starting?' mumbled Cassy and Ron laughed loudly, letting the door slam shut with a jingle of the bell.

Cassy sat down at the opposite side of the table to Neville and smiled at him as he dabbed his nose tenderly. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, scolding himself before she could even mention how ridiculous the thought of him on a broom was. Laughing, Cassy reached over the table and pulled the ice away to properly inspect his face.

'I don't even know how to fly, I told them, but they still insisted I try. How bad is it?' he asked.

'Not that bad,' she said and snickered when he looked at her doubtfully. 'Really, it's just a bit of bruising. I do not think it is broken. Besides, I am sure for the time you were in the air you were doing fine.'

'By the time I was fifteen feet from the ground I had slipped so far down the back of the brook that George had to stop and push me back up. He was on the other team,' said Neville flatly.

He stared at Cassy blankly. She tried her hardest to keep a straight face, but with each second she felt the urge to laugh build until it erupted into a fountain of badly hidden giggles that had Neville laughing with her.

'Really. This is why I keep my feet flat on the ground,' she said, handing him back the tea-towel.

'I should have sat with Hermione. She's reading somewhere nearby, I think. Crookshanks was chasing gnomes in the bushes, so she can't be far,' he said. 'Instead I got hit with a shot off the Human-Bludgers. Although, I am surprised Mrs Weasley even let them out of the house, you missed a massive argument.'

'About what?' asked Cassy curiously.

'Fred and George have been up to something. They've been inventing things all summer and she isn't very happy about it. Apparently they only got a handful of OWLS between them. Mrs Weasley went to get her want and it turned into a rubber chicken. She was so surprised and so angry that she snapped,' he said quietly, glancing at the door leading to the kitchen.

Cassy spoke quietly, leaning backwards casually on her chair. 'I would have thought after the World Cup that she would be a little more lenient, and how convincing are these toys of theirs then?'

Neville jerked his head to the wand at the end of the table. Cassy eyed his speculatively for a moment and then grabbed it; her eyes widened slightly as it let out a shriek and became lax in her hand. She almost smiled had a great bustling not come from the side room before Mrs Weasley emerged at a run with a ferocious scowl plastered across her usually friendly features. Instead, Cassy looked down at the deflated seagull and back up warily.

'Oh, is that another one of their blasted trick wands? Really, when will those boys stop for even a moment...' Mrs Weasley snatched the seagull from Cassy's hand, wringing its neck until her knuckles turned white. Neville felt sorry for the chickens outside.

'Honestly, Mrs Weasley, after the hospital I would appreciate a laugh,' said Cassy with a small smile.

The little comment had the exact desired effect. Mrs Weasley stopped strangling the seagull almost immediately, her face softened and the furious red in her cheeks dimmed to a rosey glow. She fussed, staring warmly as she spoke. 'Of course, dear. How is he? Well, I hope.'

'They do not know when he will be released. They are still running tests, but he seems well enough.'

'Good,' said Mrs Weasley brightly. 'I'll make something nice for dinner tonight.'

Cassy opened her mouth to refuse, but Mrs Weasley was all ready making her way back to the kitchen. She had taken the rubber gull with her.

Sitting back down, Cassy rested her chin on her hand. 'I see why you let me pick it up now.'

Neville snickered.

They spoke for a bit longer before Cassy asked after Luna. She knew she must be all right, for no one would be in such good spirits, but they had not heard anything from her before she had left earlier in the morning. Neville explained that she had sent a letter asking after them shortly after Cassy had departed. Luna and her father were fine, not even having a scrape between them. They had apparated away as soon as they had heard of the commotion. From their vantage point, she had described the lights and the flashes in the distance and the sudden extinguishing of all the lanterns that lined the trees. Her father had realised something was wrong and sent her to pack as the distance echoing of screams began to reach their ears. Officers had sent alarms through much of the western side long before the mob had got anywhere close, although Luna reported their tent had been damaged from what appeared to be feet trampling across it in a hurry to escape. Ginny had replied to her with nothing more than a simple 'we're fine' and asked her to come over for dinner if she could. There was hope that Luna would sense the urgency and come so they could catch her up on everything she had missed.

Neville sighed deeply. 'I'm glad she's okay. I was really worried. I wrote to her twice a week, you know.' He caught Cassy's amused expression and his eyebrows knitted down in confusion. 'Why are you looking at me like that?'

'I think it is very sweet – you and Luna,' she said simply.

It took less than half a second for Neville to turn scarlet. The slight sunburn on his cheeks had all ready given his face an odd look beyond his usual glow, but his ears burned so brightly that they were as coloured as any Weasleys' hair. Her smirk spread wider.

'I-it's not like t-that! I just think she's very interesting, and kind and...' he fumbled.

'And pretty?'

'Y- shut up, Cassy,' he cried.

Cassy threw her head back laughing and Neville was still stumbling when the front door opened. She laughed harder when Ginny stepped through, closely followed by Luna. Smothering her mouth, she tried to stop, but her shoulders shook as Neville turned an unhealthy purple.

There was nothing to say that Luna had heard them talking at all, yet Neville looked as if he was about to give up on life and crawl into a hole to die at any given moment. He looked at the table stiffly, reusing to meet Ginny's bemused gaze.

'What's so funny?' she asked.

Cassy waved her hand at the same time Neville uttered 'nothing'. Ginny's eyebrow rose higher towards her hairline. Her hair pulled back from her face in a high ponytail that had come somewhat undone during the Quidditch match with the boys. She was free of dirt though, with no visible sign of having slipped to the ground. Most likely, she had chosen to stop playing and fetch Luna, assumed Cassy. Cassy then reassessed that thought to include that her brothers would not want to play so rough with her as to force her to the floor, at least, not half as so as she would do with them.

'What happened?' asked Luna.

'Nothing,' mumbled Neville, his cheeks still red. 'It was just Cassy messing around.'

'You should aim better, Cassy. Broken noses look more devil-may-care than black eyes,' she said thoughtfully.

Cassy blinked. 'That was not my fault. Blame a Bludger to the face for those bruises.'

'Oh?' she said.

'Ah, yeah, nevermind about what I said before. This was from trying to learn to play Quidditch. I think I'll give it a miss from now on,' he said quickly.

Luna and Ginny took seats at the table and they could hear Mrs. Weasley rummaging in the kitchen. A gradual smell of earthy spices began to filter through the house, increasing with each clank and smack of utensils. Faintly beneath the children's chatter, Mrs. Weasley could be heard humming. She poked her head out and greeted Luna quickly, asking if the boys had come back in yet before she sent Ginny to fetch them and Hermione while Neville got up to help her set the table. Everyone was seated shortly with the exceptions of Mr Weasley and Percy, who had both been called into the office that morning and had yet to return home.

'They work so hard,' said Mrs Weasley warmly as she set down another plate.

'Percy was so happy to be called into the office he almost left half his wand behind,' murmured Fred to Cassy when his mother had moved away. 'Then he took one of our trick wands and almost went ballistic for apparently making him late.'

'He would have been there a lot sooner if he hadn't stopped to lecture us about how irresponsible we are and how he hopes Ron takes after him,' added George quietly.

'Worst of all, he won't tell us what the surprise at the school is this year. What a git,' said Ron.

The moment Mrs. Weasley had gone back into the kitchen to fetch the gravy boat the table erupted into a pool of irritable muttering. At the sound, Cassy smiled into her glass.

'You know something,' accused Neville, still sitting directly opposite her. 'I know your expressions by know and that was definitely your 'I-know-something' face.'

Cassy shook her head and denied it while putting her drink calmly back on the coaster, but no one was listening to that. All attention turned to her and they burst into noisy chatter. Demands of how and what filled the air immediately and barely died down when Mrs Weasley demanded they all quieten. Ron stared intently at her all through the meal. Had Cassy not been used to the unfriendly stares of pure-blooded bigots, which typically also included relatives of hers, she may have found it uncomfortable, but she simply ignored it, feeling the eyes burrow further into her skull the longer she successfully casually avoided his gaze. Fred's elbow knocked into her twice as he spoke about how wonderful it was to have so many friends over in a rather theatrical tone that Cassy found hard to believe Mrs. Weasley had not noticed. George had joined in, praising how friends as good as they all were could confide in one another; Mrs. Weasley just looked terribly pleased at them both. Yet, Cassy blinked passively and listened politely as they spoke, never showing any sort of guilt or frustration as Fred's jab once again knocked food from her fork and back onto her plate. Instead, she directed her energy to noting quick ways out of the room.

Cassy placed her knife and fork down beside each other on her plate. Her hands folded in her lap as she waited for the others to finish, smirking at Harry when no one else was looking. His eyes narrowed and he smiled challengingly, as if he knew that she would not keep the secret from him for long. Her eyebrows rose slightly in response, silently telling him his confidence was misplaced. As it was, Mrs Weasley was Cassy's only bastion of safety. The meal drew to a close and she stacked up the plates. The table was silent. Everyone watched her back vanish into the kitchen. Bill and Charlie, for all their insistence all summer that it was to be surprise did nothing but laugh when Fred shot from his chair. His arms twisted around Cassy's waist tightly as she squirmed and was effortlessly pulled from her chair. For the first time, Cassy really realised that it took a lot of strength to be a Beater. It was impossible to wriggle out of his grip and she almost shouted for Mrs Weasley when George quickly took hold of her feet and the pair of them hoisted her entirely off the ground.

'Put me down,' she demanded.

'Should have told us when he asked,' said George. He directed them towards the stairs and Cassy began really struggling.

'Don't you dare carry me up the stairs!' she roared, but they did anyway.

After several cusses and some near misses between dropping Cassy and her foot nearly smashing into George's face, the twins flung Cassy onto the nearest bed from a distance. Her hands tangled in the crocheted blanket and she bolted upright, shirting only one leg before Fred threw himself down on her, pinning the second one down.

'Get off,' she said, still somewhat in shock from being carried upstairs. 'You are heavy.'

'So, where did you find this little gem of information from then?' asked George, sitting behind her where Cassy could not quite see him properly even as she did her best to turn and scowl.

'You think after carrying me up the stairs and throwing me that I will tell you anything? How ridiculous,' she said crossly. It was fruitless to try and pull her leg from beneath Fred. He was far heavier and had a firm grip on her feet. She pressed her lips together thinly, partially embarrassed at having been thrown around so easily.

The others quickly piled into Fred and George's room. They took up residence on the other bed or leant against the painted blue walls; Cassy could not help but note that they had all positioned themselves with a clear view of her, as if she was about to fill them in on an important piece of information that may change their lives, or alter the world. Internally, she huffed. It was not even that important really, yet she felt the tiniest bit superior and amused at it all. Perhaps, she thought, she should do this more often.

'So what is it?' asked Ron quickly, taking a seat on George's bed opposite.

'Are you sure none of you want a surprise?' she questioned.

A chorus of scoffs responded.

'Just tell us,' said Ginny. 'Your uncle told you, didn't he?'

'Not quite. Draco, actually. Alphard was keeping it a secret.'

'Of course Malfoy would know. He was probably very smug about it too,' said Harry, remembering their second year and Draco's insistence about the Heir of Slytherin. Harry's nose scrunched the slightest bit.

'Enough of that,' said Hermione.

'You're detracting from the point,' said George quickly.

'Fine. Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament,' announced Cassy calmly.

Silence met her. A look of utter shock dominated the room, besides Harry and Hermione, who watched her as if there was to be another part to this grand reveal. When nothing else was said, they looked at one another and then around at the others in confusion.

'The what?' asked Harry.

'The Triwizard Tournament,' breathed Ron. His face lit up, his eyes staring far into the distance serenely.

'It's an event only the best compete it. The best of three schools all fight to become the champion,' said Fred, just as struck as his brother.

'There are three champions, three events, from three schools,' explained George. 'It hasn't been run in hundreds of years because too many people kept dying, so it was deemed unsafe.'

'Dying?' shrieked Hermione.

'If you win you get eternal glory, they say,' added Neville. He looked torn between excited and utterly sick at the prospect of someone dying on their school grounds. He knew as well as the others that the tasks were impossibly dangerous and that the body count had climbed so high that, beyond the stupid few, people had stopped entering or even watching the tournament before it was banned.

'It can't be that bad though,' piped up Ginny as Hermione's face became more aghast. 'Dumbledore will make sure no one is seriously hurt, right? They wouldn't be able to bring it back otherwise.'

Hermione hummed and looked only slightly pacified. 'I'll have to do some reading on it and see what I think then.'

Ron snorted loudly.

* * *

The excitement of the Triwizard tournament had no faltered any by the time they had all reached Hogwarts. If anything, the bubbling curiosity and anticipation had increased ten-fold for the Weasley's. As they sat in the Great Hall waiting for Professor Dumbledore to rise, they peered between each other with toothy grins, earning a few enquiring looks and the Headmaster's eyes twinkled down at them each in turn before he clapped his hands together and revealed officially what everyone had been waiting to hear.

The hall burst to life, just as Cassy thought it would. The entrance of the strange new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Alistair Moody, was forgotten almost instantly. Cassy though found herself watching him carefully. His lips had been turned down since he had burst through the doors. There had not even been a glimmer of pleasantry as he hobbled down the isle towards the teachers' table, his wooden, claw-footed limb pounding against the floor with every other step, encouraging the recoiling students to mutter behind their hands; although to his credit, he did not react to a single word that had been uttered. Nor did Professor Moody react when not a single student clapped for his appointment. Through Professor Dumbledore's explanation of the tournament, Cassy cast a watchful eye over the familiar man. They had met over a year ago for no more than an hour; a dull ache sat in the back of her mind at the thought of the powerful stunner he had sent when he had invaded her home in search of her runaway father. His mechanical eye swirled madly in its socket, looking each student up and down and one of his wrinkled, scarred hands moved up to push his wild grey hair from his face. The electric blue, bulging eye suddenly halted. It was fixed on her. His head rose and cast his remaining good eye on her too and she held his gaze for a moment, unwilling to back down to the abrasive man in her own school hall.

The schools attending the tournament, as Professor Dumbledore announced, were to be Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, two of the largest wizarding schools in Europe. They would be coming on October 31st and a notice would be put out for further details. There was not a doubt that Draco would be quick to smother the Durmstrang students, having wanted to go there himself until Narcissa told him otherwise. A school of purebloods, Cassy told her friends at dinner, and while Beauxbatons were more accepting of race, they were often weighted down by ridiculous standards of living, being a more expensive institute than either Durmstrang or Hogwarts.

Hermione was sure to spend most of the next day in the library researching the tournament and the schools. It was inevitable, but as she picked and pushed at her food, it was clear to any Gryffindor that they were unlikely to see her for the better part of the next week.

'I can't bring myself to eat it,' she said. 'I thought about what I am going to do for weeks to help the house-elves and I have a good idea now, but knowing they made this...'

'You've been to the kitchens before, why does it bother you now?' said Harry. He winced immediately afterwards.

Hermione turned her steel gaze towards him. 'I thought they were being paid. I thought that despite their clothing and long hours that they were at least paid and allowed time off. This is disgusting. I can't believe this kind of exploitation of labour is allowed nowadays!'

'If you were to say that to any house-elf they would cover their ears,' said Cassy blandly, still eating and not at all deterred by Hermione's hunger strike. 'They would probably shoo you from the kitchen.'

She did not flinch when Hermione scowled at her, far too stubborn and used to the scorn for it to have any impact on her. Bored, she watched Hermione rant at anyone within earshot. The conversation had been anticipated since she was first shown the kitchens and Cassy all ready knew the endless stream of claimed unfairness and hardships the house-elves went through that would surely come until Hermione grew tired of the blank faces. As much as Cassy disapproved of harming one's servants, she refused to be roped into any of Hermione's schemes.

* * *

The feast set the tone for the next week very well as it turned out. It was to be hectic and trying. Outrage at the age limit on the tournament had led to secrecy, with many students whispering behind their hands and quick glances at the staff, most of all Fred and George. No doubt many were going to attempt to evade and trick the ageline, the confident and cocky faces passed in the corridors were sign enough to pick out who would and would not be trying come October. Curiously, thought Cassy, none of the teachers looked the slightest bit concerned that the charm could be tricked and they did little beyond tut and shoo away whispers of conspiracies.

Classes had been introductory and basic, apart from Defence Against the Dark Arts, where students had piled from the room with a far-away look of awe plastered across their faces for much of lunch on Monday. The rumoured intensity of the lessons did little to curb the constant talk of the incident at the World Cup, fighting fresh in the minds of most. Those who had been there were eager to share their stories, and those who had not were just as willing to listen to whatever was to be said. It resulted in many strange tales that became worse the more they were past down the house tables so much that by the time it reached Cassy and her friends they stared dumbfounded at Colin Creevey; he was rather pleased with himself, thinking that he had impressed them with his excellent story telling.

Worse than false stories was the recital of the dreadful article in the morning newspaper. It had been waved around and mocked, plucked quotations shouted from one end of the castle to the other all morning, until words had been offered for ridicule in front of the wrong audience. Harry and Ron turned out to be the perfectly wrong audience when Draco had decided to humiliate Mr Weasley. The result left Cassy thoroughly amused on her way to the library, she could still hear chortling from the entrance hall from two stories above.

She pushed open the door and nodded to Madam Pince, who nodded back, having become quite used to Cassy's regular visits over the years. Following the long, carpeted gangways down, she emerged into a small study area that all ready had one occupant. She gazed at him briefly before setting her mind back to the bookcase in front of her. Three Ancient Rune books were piled behind her before she glanced back at the book he was reading.

'You will be eager to please him too when you have had a lesson with him,' said Stephen Goodridge. He had been watching her over the top of the old tome for some time before she had turned around. Ravenclaw's blue and silver coloured his clothing and upon his nose sat a pair of black framed glasses that had not been their the first time they had met.

'Oh?' she said. 'I all ready know that. He just turned my cousin into a ferret in the hall.'

Goodridge strangled a laugh. 'Really?'

'Yes and you might have seen it, had you not been so eager to please,' she said, pulling another book from the shelf.

'You are hardly at dinner either,' he pointed out.

'Needs must. If I leave it any later Hermione will check out the good books.'

'So you're getting them all first?' he asked and she nodded. 'Are you not friends? Can't you just share?'

'You do not know Hermione,' muttered Cassy.

Hermione did not share reading material. She hoarded it like a dragon hoarded gems and she was quite unashamed to have half the library under her bed at any one point in time. Cassy thought herself rather fortunate that Hermione was so wrapped up in house-elf rights that she could grab a few books first for once.

Her finger scanned down the index of a larger anthology, ignoring the way Goodridge's eyes were fixed firmly on the side of her face. Turning a page, she hummed.

'You have got yourself into a bit of trouble, you know,' he said.

'Have I?' asked Cassy concomitantly.

'With Shandy. Nothing good will come of it.'

'That is what people have been telling me for a year and yet nothing _at all_ has come of it,' she replied with a slight frown.

He said nothing in return. Cassy put two books back on the shelf and picked up the two largest, folding her arms around their centre easily with her long limbs. Just as she was about to leave, she turned her head back to him.

'Are you two friends?' she asked.

'No,' he replied without hesitation. 'Although I do suppose I am the closest he has.'

She regarded him then said, 'What is it you think he wants from me?'

'How could I know that? You will be what he wants you to be and nothing will change his mind from that until he is done with you. He hardly keeps people around,' he said simply.

With a blank face, Cassy turned and strode down the next isle towards Defence Against the Dark Arts. As she past, she locked eyes with Astoria Greengrass, who ducked her head quickly and had Cassy cared more she might have frowned. However, she merely stopped and spoke to her half turned, 'Can I help you?'

Astoria shook her head. 'No, sorry.'

Without any word of the strange letter she had sent Cassy, the younger girl hurried out of sight, leaving Cassy standing perplexed and alone. She shook her head and continued down the aisle, pausing only to collect a copy of the purple bound book Goodridge had been reading.

* * *

**Bridging the gap between home and school. It is a bit choppy, but I have tried to improve it from my original draft.**

Am I doing something wrong, or is it normal to experience a huge decline in readership after third year? I want to say a massive thank-you to those who have reviewed so far and you have all said lovely things that make me proud to have got this far. I am a bit surprised by the complete lack of interest on a wider scale though. I still had a lot of readers at the end of _**Blood of a Dog**_**, but most seem to have called it quits now. I am slowly getting more follows though, which I want to say thank-you for, whether you review or not. I know I complained last time that I had dipped on reviews, but wow. **

**Oh, well. At the end of the day I write this because I want to and I am determined to finish Cassy's story one way or another. This was just a message to say thank-you to the reviews I have got so far. They have been some of the loveliest I have ever received and it means a lot to know that people do enjoy my writing!**

**Thanks!**


	8. Just the beginning

C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

**Chapter VIII: Just the beginning**

Several times after her first day of fourth year, Cassy saw Stephen Goodridge sitting alone in the library. They hardly spoke, occasionally exchanging jabs about what the other was reading, or their choice of seat, the lateness of their homework – or rather, how early the other was doing it and how they lacked a fulfilling life. Beyond that, they never interacted.

In fact, there were days when Cassy found herself avoiding him entirely. There was usually no sign to warn her until she edged her head around one of the giant bookcases that Benjamin Shandy was loitering with Goodridge some afternoons. At first she would sit just out of sight and listen. The hope that she might learn more about the pair of clever fifth-years diminished by the third time and she gave in to the fact that neither was likely to talk about personal business in the library whether they believed themselves to be alone or not. Talking, she thought, was also stretching what there interaction really was because outside of her and Hermione she had never heard two people bicker for as long or as pointlessly as Shandy and Goodridge. They sniggered at each other and bit out a remark or two before either wandering off from the other or falling into silence, ready to start up again after a long pause. It was maddening and pointless and Cassy soon gave up with caring.

So what if Shandy was capable of working out what she herself had about the basilisk, she thought as she took a seat down the next isle. It seemed stranger to her that more people had not. It also did not matter that Draco feared him, despite his best efforts to appear unflappable. Draco was wound up easily and probably disliked Shandy because of his ability to entirely disregard what Draco was saying. He was smart, but that did not make him dangerous just yet.

She breathed deeply and opened the book to her marked page. It read: 'Transfiguration as a weapon'.

'That's a bit advanced for you, don't you think?' a voice asked from above her.

She looked up, her lips all ready pursed and her brow furrowed. 'You are only a year older.'

Goodridge slumped down in the chair opposite at the small table. He looked between the book and the bundle of parchment she had out beside her, green curving letters crossing perfectly straight across.

'I told you you would want to impress him,' he said.

'I actually have not had a lesson with him yet. My first lesson is with him this afternoon,' she said, concentrating on reading.

'Then you are in for a treat,' he said. 'He's absolutely mad.'

Cassy found out after lunch that Goodridge's description was not quite apt enough. There were many things that Cassy could think of that should be branded as 'mad', but as Professor Moody paced the front of the class, his carved face surveying them each in turn, he was not one of them. He rolled one of the three jars around in his hand, tossing the spider inside from side to side as it struggled to find any footing within the glass container.

'So, go on,' he said in a low, gruff voice, 'give me an Unforgivable Curse.'

Eyeing the three spiders at the front of the room, Cassy realised very quickly what was surely to happen. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, then they tensed more at the sight of the professor. She actually thought he might just show them, given what she knew, regardless of legality or reason.

People's hands stretched warily into the air. Professor Moody pointed at Ron, who hesitantly recalled the Imperious Curse and soon the spider was free from its container, dancing across the table. Its thin legs flailed everywhere and everyone began to laugh, but Cassy became very stiff.

Lucius had told her all about the curse, claiming to have been put beneath it many times before himself. It was the only reason he was not in Azkaban, he had told her, because he had never intended to do anything he had done, or harm those he had. Cassy would have scoffed if he had told her that now, but watching the spider cartwheel and spin sent a heavy wave of sickness to her stomach. It was a spell that could not be fended off easily. It was a spell that could and had destroyed many lives, one indistinguishable from a persons ordinary actions and the thought of watching events unfold at her doing but not being able to lift a finger to stop them made her ill. Lucius had described it as as a serene dream and that even if she registered the peculiarity in the back of her mind, there is nothing to say she could stop it. He certainly maintained he could not stop it.

'Black,' barked a voice suddenly.

Cassy's eyes slid over to Professor Moody, who was looking down at her intensely. The class was still giggling slight, most of it having been shocked out of them at his abrupt call.

'Yes, Sir?' she said.

'Why aren't you laughing?'

Cassy was quiet for a moment, her eyes lingering on the spider who was suddenly very still back in its jar. She looked at his desk and said, 'Because I do not think having my self-control taken from me is very amusing at all, Sir.' Her voice was clipped, somewhat vexed that he even felt the need to ask her. 'If you chose to drown it, then it would drown. If you chose to have it kill its family, then it would do so without an ounce of remorse because you told it to. I struggle to find that amusing at all.'

The class was deathly silent. It was as if her words had sucked the air from the room and she felt a dozen pairs of eyes on the back of her skull, boring holes deep into her bone. She ignored them all and met Professor Moody's gaze.

'Ah, yes. I bet you have heard all about this curse,' he said quietly. 'Back in the first war, there were many witches and wizards who claimed to be under the Imperious Curse. The Ministry had a great many problems sorting out who really had been and who had been doing it on their own free will.'

Cassy knew it was a jab at Lucius' own innocence and kept a very straight face.

'Those of a strong character and a firm disposition can fight the Imperious Curse and it is my job to teach you all how, but I can't help everyone. Some people cannot help but succumb to it, so you best avoid it to begin with, if you can,' he said just as gently, then roared, 'Constant Vigilance!'

Everyone jumped from their seats.

He wasted no time if picking up the next jar and demanding answer again. To everyone's surprise, Neville's hand stretched up beside Hermione's and he barely flinched as Professor Moody's giant eye settled on him.

'The Cruciatus Curse,' he said softly.

'Longbottom?' said Professor Moody and Neville nodded faintly.

Professor Moody nodded back and then enlarged the next spider. Several students whined when he placed it down on the desk. It did not move and he tapped it gently with his wand, muttering, 'Crucio.'

The spider flung itself onto its side, writhing and wriggling. Its many legs jerked in different directions and it struggled to crawl along the table and away from him, as if the distance would do any good. It gave up, curling in on itself more as the shuddering grew wilder.

'Stop it,' shrieked Hermione. 'Just stop it!'

Cassy turned to her slowly, having been so transfixed on the spider's form that she had almost forgotten she was not alone. Hermione's hands rested on Neville's upper arms, squeezing them gently and trying to pry his white knuckles away from the edge of the desk. His face had lost all colour.

With one look, Professor Moody stopped. The spider went lax, still shuddering as he shrunk it and put it back into the jar. He mumbled, 'I think you all got the idea what that one does.'

The last curse he wanted had many people glancing uneasily between one another. Cassy noticed how Harry still sat with undeterred attention and she realised in that one second that he really had no idea what was coming. Yet, that glitter of attentiveness died the moment the green light lit their faces and the spider curled in on itself. His face, much like Neville's, look distant and unreadable.

'There is no counter-curse,' explained Professor Moody. 'No shield can stop it. The best chance you have is staying out of sight and out of line. You dodge and if you are lucky, you defend with a solid object. Conjure one, pick one up, whatever means you survive. It requires a strong will to fire it. You have to mean what you say and you have to want them dead about anything else. If you were all to point your wands at me I doubt I would get any more than a nosebleed if you're lucky. Avoid it at all costs.'

The rest of the lesson was spent copying notes from the bored about the three Unforgivables. Cassy kept peering over to Neville, who was trying his hardest to write, but his sentences kept running together and hardly making any sense at all. He had not even attempted to copy anything about the Cruciatus Curse. He was first from the room the moment Professor Moody dismissed them. His hands trailed along the stone wall of the passage as if he might topple over if it was removed.

'Neville,' called Harry, jogging after him.

Cassy and Hermione stood some way behind.

'Oh, hey,' he said as if seeing them for the first time all day. 'I was just going to sit over here for a minute. What's our next lesson?'

'We're done for the day. Dinner is going to be starting soon,' said Harry carefully.

'Oh, great. I'm starving,' he said, nodding feverishly.

'Are you all right?' asked Hermione gently.

'Oh, yeah,' he said quickly, humming afterwards and still nodding his head.

'Neville,' said Cassy quietly. She moved to touch his arm, but he flinched away and Cassy's hand recoiled, startled.

'I'm gonna-' he began, but trailed off at the sound of Professor Moody's clunking wooden leg. They all turned.

'Longbottom,' he said, lacking some of its usually harshness, 'come with me to my office, we'll have a cup of tea.'

It might have been a funny proposition, had Neville not looked even more scared than he had before. He looked between them in desperation, but no one said anything and he was forced to slump along the corridor with Professor Moody in tow. Before he left, Moody asked, 'You all right, Potter?'

Harry gave a short agreement and he nodded before going to meet Neville at the end of the corridor.

When Neville returned to the common room that evening, he was in much higher spirits. Apparently, Professor Sprout had told Professor Moody about how much Neville excelled in Herbology and was given an unusual book in return. He did not mention the lesson again and even when Harry enquired gently that evening it was brushed aside as though he had never even spoke, leaving everyone uneasy.

* * *

'Stop it,' growled Cassy as she stormed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione was trailing behind her, looking just as furious. She stooped down to pick up what Cassy had thrown carelessly behind her before running to keep up, still scowling.

'What is your problem?' seethed Hermione.

'My problem? What is your problem?' snapped Cassy.

People began to turn in the entrance hall to watch the two argue.

'Just buy one and we won't have any issues!' said Hermione, throwing her hands up in the air.

'Or perhaps you can respect my opinion and understand that I do not want to wear a badge with _SPEW_ written across it,' said Cassy walking even quicker down the length of Gryffindor table. 'Stop sticking them to my clothing and I will stop throwing them away.'

'It's not SPEW,' said Hermione hotly. 'It's S.P.E.W. The Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare.'

Cassy did not care for the punctuation. The badge still read the same to anyone glancing at it and Hermione was not taking no for an answer. There had been several times in the past few weeks where Cassy had abruptly found a colourful badge pinned to her, or something she owned, and while she returned them to Hermione at first with a polite refusal, they had not ceased. Unlike Harry and Neville, Cassy refused to buy one to placate her. She did not believe Hermione trying to get house-elves paid wages and pensions was a good idea. The elves themselves did not want them and she had told her so many times, but she refused to listen.

Now Cassy was certain that whatever cost Hermione had budgeted for the badges had doubled the cost for any new members with the amount Cassy had disposed of through the last week. She was fairly certain Hermione believed if she pestered long enough Cassy would relent and wear the badge like Harry and Neville did, although they did their best to keep these hidden, but she would not. She would rather pick badges off her belongings all year than give in when Hermione was clearly not going to either.

Cassy set herself down next to Harry gracefully with a blank, pleasant expression; Hermione threw herself down opposite beside Neville, grabbing and buttering a slice of toast so violently one might have thought it had Cassy's face plastered across it.

'I still haven't received another reply off Sirius,' said Harry. 'I hope he buys it. I don't want him coming all the way back here just because my scar hurt. It wasn't even that bad.'

'You know that's not true though,' said Neville with a frown.

'He'll probably know that's a lie and if he is anything as stubborn as his daughter then I am sure he will ignore you anyway, not matter how good your reasoning,' said Hermione tartly.

Cassy sneered at her.

'Are you two still fighting?' asked Harry warily.

'Can you not do this over breakfast?' said Ginny with a deep sigh.

'And I hope he doesn't see through it because he's not getting sent back to Azkaban because of me,' added Harry after a moment.

'Stop it too, you,' scolded Ginny.

Everyone stared down at their breakfast irritably. Cassy considered sending Sirius a letter just saying 'Harry is a liar', but thought against it when her anger began to subside. She understood his worry. He had received a letter many nights ago stating that Sirius and Remus were going to make their way back north. They were under the impression, as everyone but Harry seemed to be, that his scar hurting was not normal, nor imagined, and that it actually very serious. He had crumpled the letter and seethed for hours after reading it, snapping at Hedwig who had returned from the long flight, and stomped back and forth before loudly announcing he was going to bed.

'Good morning, everyone,' greeted Luna, slipping into the seat beside Cassy.

Everyone muttered out their own greeting and Luna looked between them questioningly.

'Oh dear, what's happened?' she asked.

'You don't really want to know, trust me,' said Ginny, waving her hand flippantly.

'Seriously, Hermione, go to the kitchen and ask them,' said Cassy after a long silence.

'I will,' she sniffed. 'You'll see. By the end of this year they will certainly be demanding wages.'

Cassy grimaced, but when Hermione left the table to start her crusade so did she. She trailed down to the kitchens with Luna at her side, who had never been down to the kitchens before. Luna hummed, taking no notice of Hermione's nose in the air. Once the pear was ticked and the door slammed behind them, Hermione stood with her hands on her hips.

The house-elves beamed when they saw the girls. Quickly wiping her hands on her apron, a tall elf hurried over and bowed lowly to them.

'What can Daisy help you with today, misses?' she asked in a high, squeaky voice.

'Well, I –' began Hermione.

'Dobby?' enquired Cassy loudly.

An elf's head turned and his eyes widened. Quickly, he did as Daisy had done, smearing batter all down his dirty apron before rushing towards her excitedly. He gushed, 'Miss Black, how nice it is to see you.'

'What are you doing here, Dobby. I thought you were free?' asked Cassy. She ignored Hermione and Luna's eyes on her as she bent down to meet him at eye-level.

'Oh, yes, Dobby is,' he said quickly. 'Dobby spent the past year looking for work, miss, but no one would have him because he wanted wages, you see. Then Dumbledore offered Dobby a wage and a job, so Dobby now works here.'

'Well done,' was all she could think to say to him.

It seemed to be better tidings that Dobby could cope with from the family of his former masters. He bounced excitedly, then looked as if he might burst into tears at any second. He turned quickly and waved to a smaller elf, who shook her head fiercely.

Cassy narrowed her eyes.

'Is that – is that Winky?' asked Hermione in disbelief.

Winky was not wearing the same clothes she had been at the Quidditch World Cup. Instead, she wore a blue pleated skirt, matching hat and a little white blouse, all covered in food and grease with long trails of it smeared from her bony fingers. She had not taken to clothing as well as Dobby, who seemed to want to cram as much fabric onto his being as possible, including a tie around his bare neck and bright football shorts.

'Why have you not got a shirt on?' said Cassy as the thought occurred to her.

Dobby turned away from Winky and grinned broadly. 'That's next on the list, Miss.'

Winky suddenly burst into tears and Cassy paid her no mind, knowing exactly why she was crying. Hermione, on the other hand, quickly dropped down beside her and tried to comfort her with quiet words that only made her sob harder.

'When did you get here?' asked Cassy. 'At the beginning of the year?'

'Oh, no,' said Dobby, shaking his head. 'Dobby had been thinking about it over the summer, you see, but then spoke to Plum and Kitsy after the World Cup. They were in the hospital, tending to Mr Black and Dobby had been asking for work there. Plum mentioned that she works here on odd days and Dobby got the idea to ask Professor Dumbledore himself. So, Dobby has been here for about ten days, miss.'

Luna was now also kneeling beside the crying elf, humming and patting her hat. It seemed to do little more than Hermione had managed.

'Why is she crying?' said Hermione.

'She is ashamed,' said Cassy as if it were obvious. 'Mr Crouch punished her by setting her free.'

She would have said it quieter had Winky's wailing not been deafening. At her words, Winky threw herself to the ground and began beating her tiny fists on the stone flooring and Hermione was so utterly uncomprehending of Cassy's words that she did not think to stop her.

'What?' she said.

'Mr Crouch said he would punish Winky, didn't he? The worst punishment for a house-elf, usually, is to be set free. They consider it disgraceful because they could not provide an adequate service for their family. That is the only reason I can think of that would allow her to wear those clothes,' she said simply.

'She did nothing wrong!' cried Hermione standing, suddenly passionate.

Cassy thought it might be an awful idea to mention the long-standing Black family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got to old to be of use; yet she rather wanted to.

Farther down the length of the kitchen, where many elves were pretending not to be listening to their conversation, a small pop sounded that was only heard as Winky choked a breath. She wailed again, but Cassy paid her no mind. Instead, she dropped back to her knees and smiled broadly at the newcomer.

'Good morning, Plum,' said Cassy.

The tiny, floppy-eared house-elf squealed at the sight of her.

'Is that your elf?' demanded Hermione.

'This is Plum without the 'b',' introduced Cassy. She waved a hand towards Hermione and Luna. 'These are my friends, Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood.'

Plum pulled delicately on the edges of her white and blue floral dress, dipping into a low curtsy.

Luna giggled back and smiled, 'Nice to meet you.'

Plum beamed and did not seem to register Hermione's critical eye looking her over.

'Why without the 'b'?' she asked after a moment.

'She named herself after the fruit, although she went through a stage of adding a 'b' to it,' said Cassy.

'She can spell?' asked Hermione curiously.

'Of course she can,' said Cassy, affronted. She was hardly going to allow her elf to be illiterate. She was not the best speller or reader, but she would not have been of much use in Cassy's childhood plans if she could not at least read labels.

'It's wonderful,' said Plum, rocking back onto the balls of her feet. 'Mr Black is out of hospital. He returned home today.'

'That's excellent, Plum,' said Cassy brightly. 'I will have to write him a letter.'

'Plum is taking very good care of him. Kitsy keeps complaining about what Plum does, but Plum is ignoring him,' she said flatly.

Feeling very enthused suddenly, Cassy turned to Dobby and offered to go and get Harry for him. Dobby squealed and Cassy left Hermione and Luna in the kitchen. The journey to the common room seem ludicrously shorter that usual. Cassy barely registered her feet touching the marble stairs as she ascended with a cheerful grin on her face. On the red, plush sofa closest to the fire in the Gryffindor Tower were Harry and Neville. They turned at her voice and she waved them over from the open portrait hole.

'You will never guess who we just found in the kitchens,' she said jovially.

They followed her back down and she was careful to warn them to ignore the wailing elf long before the pear giggled and the painting moved to reveal the kitchens. Cassy frowned and Harry looked bemused as Dobby attached himself to his leg excitedly with a shout. Moving beyond the pair, Cassy stared across to Hermione, who looked suddenly sheepish.

Plum's face was contorted into an unusual snarl and her grey skin was flushed with colour as she fumbled for words. A long, thin finger pointed at Hermione as she looked up at Cassy, stuttering, 'She – she – she is not a very nice person!'

Cassy almost laughed at the insult, but the other elves in the room gasped and Winky stopped howling at the words. House-elves should not insult their master's friends and guests, it was exceptionally rude. Several of the elves began wringing their hands in worry.

'Hermione,' said Cassy, casting a severe eye on her, 'what did you say to upset my house-elf?'

There was a collective sigh of relief from the elves. Although they did not return to cooking, it had become apparent at Cassy's words that Plum was not to be set free for her insolence. Plum, on the other hand, had not looked worried about the prospect at all.

'Nothing! Nothing that should have upset her anyway. I just asked about her clothes. They are a lot nicer than any other house-elves I have seen and I asked her if she buys them, or if she would want to work for wages to buy more,' said Hermione in obvious distress.

For the first time, Cassy felt rather guilty about ridiculing Hermione's campaign. Not all house-elves were treated as well as Cassy's, nor as educated and respected and she ensured them to be. Hermione did not understand how they thought, or why and how an elf's own culture worked. She saw injustice and sought to change it. They would talk it over later. Still, Cassy had no intention of ever wearing a S.P.E.W badge.

'She accused you of not being able to provide for Plum,' seethed Plum, her voice high and loud in outrage. 'The nerve!'

'It's all right, Plum,' said Cassy softly. She patted the top of Plum's head. 'There are some things Hermione does not understand. I forget that too sometimes. I said she may use the cloth in the cupboard however she pleases. That is not giving her clothes, but the means to make her own. I like it when she looks presentable.'

Hermione looked slightly guilty.

Dobby moved quickly, offering them all a cup of tea before any more arguing could break out. He ushered them all into seats and Cassy and Hermione caught the others eye as the cups were passed around.

'I can help you work on this proposal of yours,' said Cassy. 'It will never work as it is because you do not understand the elves, you only see their treatment. It is not as simple to improve measures when the ones you are trying to help do not want it.'

Cassy had no idea where she would even start in aiding Hermione, but Hermione nodded thoughtfully all the same and a dubious deal was struck between the two. Although, Cassy was fairly certain Hermione thought she might be trying to sabotage her.

* * *

Cassy had a reply from Alphard the following morning. It conveniently ignored all of her enquiries towards his and Narcissa's tense relationship. However, Cassy received several food parcels filled with her favourite sweets and chocolates from her cousin in volumes that she had never had before. She even resorted to asking Draco about it. While he knew nothing more than her, he told her to relax and think of the benefit the two were getting from the fight. For every parcel she got, he got one as well and the pair were quickly becoming popular in their houses for the shire quantities of sweets they had available.

Harry had also received a letter back from Sirius that read 'Nice Try, Harry' and told them in no uncertain terms that he was returning no matter what they said. Harry seemed to calm knowing Sirius had all ready made it back into the country undetected, which was surely the hardest part.

Lessons continued much the way they always had. Care of Magical Creatures was taxing, caring for Blast-Ended Screwts every single lesson. They were almost six foot in length and no one had had as much joy in class as they did when Hagrid told them the grim news that they had begun to kill each other in the night. Hagrid had yet to figure out what they ate and kindly ignored Ron when he suggested it was most likely each other.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was no less violent, or terrifying. Cassy found out first hand what the warm, serene feeling of the Imperious Curse felt like three times over in one lesson when Professor Moody had them all line up to be assaulted. By the end of it, she managed to grunt and slip on her own feet while trying to stop herself cartwheeling. He had clapped loudly for her and let her crawl, her foot twisted, over to Harry, who had a bloody nose and later diagnosed broken kneecaps from having resisted jumping onto a table.

By the end of the class, several people's expressions had visibly changed while under, but no one had thrown off the curse as quickly or as easily as Harry. Hermione had managed to garble a no and grip a table to stop her top half following her feet. She had smacked the ground harshly and took a chair with her, but she still beamed breathlessly at them at Professor Moody's praise. While Neville had spent most of the lesson trying to remain out of sight and out of mind, although that hardly worked.

'I think I pulled something,' he moaned, massaging his twinging back.

'I should think you have. That was the most extraordinary line dance I have ever seen,' said Cassy and Neville sent her a withered, if somewhat flushed, look.

Muggle Studies had become substantially more interesting with the introduction of muggle sciences. Cassy found Chemistry not too dissimilar to Potions and her Professor could barely contain her excitement at the ease Cassy was getting through the processes and equations. Cassy occasionally fired questions at Hermione to see if she knew the answer back in the common room. Frustratingly, she usually did.

Potions itself was tense. Professor Snape had given Neville two detentions in as many weeks for his work and Neville had resigned himself to losing points so that when Professor Snape shouted across the class he hardly flinched any more. It appeared that the run up to the tournament had him wound up tighter than anyone had ever seen him, even last year when Sirius was lose and he was desperate to catch him. It was the same with all the staff though. They were quick to correct and eager to keep order so much that when the poster announcing the two schools' arrivals on October 30th everyone had cheered ecstatically, eager to get the formal greeting out of the way.

The Triwizard Tournament was all that was spoken of for the week leading up to it and Cassy was quickly becoming sick of it.

'Do you think Fred and George will really be able to get past the age restrictions?' asked Neville, not for the first time.

'If anyone can it will be those two,' said Harry.

Hermione scoffed is disbelief. A book was open on her lap and her back rested against the giant willow tree that Harry was leaning against, inspecting the small, flat rocks in his hands.

'As long as none of you follow suit. I would like one year where one of us is not in mortal peril of some sort,' said Cassy. She then looked at Harry, her head still ducked towards her lap. 'Especially you, understand?'

'I don't go looking for trouble,' he insisted, walking past her. 'I would rather like to live anyway.'

'Most things that happen happen to you,' said Cassy flatly.

Harry bent low and sharply threw the stone. It skimmed across the surface farther and farther until it dipped beneath the water with a small splash. He turned back to them.

'I don't mean to. Trust me, I am not entering this tournament. I promise.'

'I will hold you to that,' said Cassy with a half-smile.

'No one beneath seventeen will be entering,' said Hermione. 'Dumbledore is personally ensuring the age line is in place.'

'Doesn't mean Fred and George won't try,' laughed Ginny.

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch and the start of the last lesson of the week. Double Potions ended half an hour early to allow everyone time to pile downstairs and be rushed into perfectly straight lines. No one had been the slightest bit involved and not even Professor Snape's constant insults could detract from the curious buzz that filled the air.

Once their bags were deposited in the Gryffindor Tower and collected their cloaks, everyone assembled in the Entrance Hall. They were then taken from there down the steps and realigned, set to wait perfectly until both schools had arrived. Excited chatter broke out in small pockets and the Heads of houses tried to quell them each time, but once their eye was elsewhere, everyone just started up again.

There was a sudden shout and everyone fell silent. High in the sky was something moving rapidly towards them. Small at first and then growing bigger and bigger, jerking haphazardly with magnificent, giant, golden beasts pulling ahead. It was not until the underside was brushing the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest that it was clear it was a massive carriage. It landed with a shuddering thud hard onto the ground.

Cassy could not see much beyond that, but the pale blue hat of a boy emerge, followed by the tallest woman she had ever seen. Her shoulders were clear above the heads off all of those in from and she looked around with a critical eye and a faint smile. She looked down and spoke deeply, 'Dumbly-dorr.'

She waved a hand to the carriage and the hats of the Beauxbatons students bobbed temporarily in sight and then out again as they hopped from the carriage into a little line.

'They should have brought cloaks,' muttered Hermione, who had a good few inches on Cassy's hight, especially as she was on tiptoes. 'They look freezing in those thin robes.'

It was only a few minutes before there was another shout and all heads turned towards the Black Lake. They had a clear view this time from atop the grassy hills. The lake was rippling and they grew wider and closer with every passing second until a great wave erupted. A tall, black mast appeared. The wood was dark and the cloth of the sail hung lifelessly, even the dozen portholes seemed to emit an eerie glow.

Once the anchor was thrown, a single man stepped down. Others could be seen moving through the windows, each built wide and firm, with furs thrown over their shoulders and red uniforms.

'Dumbledore,' called the man merrily. He was old, his hair white and his skin wrinkled, but he carried himself well. His beard was short and curled at the tip, almost swallowed up in his shallow face and lanky build.

Cassy felt herself squashed down suddenly as Ron place one of his giant hands on her shoulder to steady himself, stretching high onto his toes.

'That's him,' he whispered breathlessly. 'That's Viktor Krum.'

'Yes, did I not tell you he would be here?' hissed Cassy, trying to shrug him off.

Ron turned to her in horror. '_You knew_? What kind of friend are you? You didn't prepare me for this!'

* * *

**This did not end up entirely as planned, but here it is anyway. Cassy and Hermione would certainly argue over house-elf rights and I think that if you were to put two people of similar minds but of different experience together then they could be greater as a whole, so perhaps S.P.E.W will actually end well – if they can stop bickering. It happened earlier than it did in the book, because somehow I could not imagine Hermione waiting that long to do something when she knew about their work since summer.**

**This was a bit choppy, although less so than the other chapter. I find the beginning of the year a bit shoved together anyway. **

**The reviews I received were amazing, I am very grateful for the responses. Also, **_**Richasa**_** I would never say you were selfish for not replying! I am guilty of it myself (although everything I seem to add to my alerts appears to discontinue shortly afterwards, I'm like a bad omen on the site). So to those who left me a review last time, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and you all cheered me up! **

**Thanks!**


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